So Damn Beautiful
by fadingtales
Summary: The thing about Chuck and Carter is that they are both of the opinion that nobody loves Blair Waldorf the way they love Blair Waldorf. Love triangles are always so messy. Future fic, set a few years after end of S2. Chuck/Blair/Carter. A/N: graphics on LJ
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N:** My first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic. I always thought the Chuck/Blair/Carter storyline was cut too short in season 2. The fic takes place in the future so any episodes that have been aired are game. I did start writing this before season 3 started, however, so I'm going to ignore the Serena/Carter storyline. Any comments/reviews are love! I'm also in need of a beta reader so if anyone's interested let me know!

**Prologue**

There are many things the people of high society associate with Blair Waldorf.

The first thing that comes to mind is that she is the long-time girlfriend of one Chuck Bass. She is the hostess of a great many sophisticated soirees and head chair for various charitable organizations. All this she does while working as head of Waldorf Designs. She is happy.

Of all the things society thinks of when they think of Blair Waldorf, happiness cannot be further from the truth.

**Chapter One**

So much time had passed since she had last been in New York City. It's an odd déjà-vu type of feeling to see nostalgic landscapes of youth and have foreign images of herself plastered all over them.

It amused her to reminisce over a time when she was stiff and shy in front of the camera. Now she could give even Serena a run for her money. Of course since Serena was also an employee at Waldorf Designs it would not be prudent to compete with one's own model.

As if thoughts of the golden haired goddess summoned her, the lovely Serena Van der Woodsen herself manifested in front of the limo door just as she arrived at the doorstep of her childhood home.

"Welcome back, B!" Serena exclaims with delight as Blair steps out of the limo and into her open arms.

"S!"

Of all the things that she has missed of the sleepless city, the leggy blonde who was currently squeezing the air from her lungs ranks high on the list.

"It's great to have you back in the city. I haven't seen you since that last photo shoot we did in Milan ages ago."

"I know. I've missed you."

"I'm glad you're finally back. What could I ever do without you?"

"Which reminds me, you still have to do that fitting with Enrique at eight tomorrow morning, so don't party too much tonight," Blair warns while fussing around with her blackberry.

"Argh! On again about work! Must you be such a workaholic? As if I don't have to deal with Chu—"

Serena stops herself abruptly from her rant on work ethics or lack thereof as she notices how her friend had stiffened by the mention of her stepbrother, Manhattan's notorious Bass-illionaire.

Blair is suddenly reminded of all the years of weariness that had took her from the Upper East Side in the first place. If Serena Van der Woodsen ranked on the top of her 'Things I Miss in New York' list, then Chuck Bass would most definitely be at the bottom. The fact that he's on the list at all is irrelevant. At least that's what she tells herself.

"B, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mention him. You just got back and I just don't know what I was thinking…" Serena trails off as Blair quickly fixes her composure.

"It's fine," she was with a grin that is more like a grimace, "It's all ancient history now."

She struggles to regain hold on her slipping mask of serenity.

"How is he anyways?"

"Oh, you know…buried in his work as usual. I don't think I've even seen him outside of his office at all this week. That might also be attributed to the fact that they just started posting up all the new ads for Waldorf Designs around the city on Monday," Serena suggests.

Blair tried not to dwell on the thought that pictures of her all over New York City could influence a certain bass-tard to stay cooped up in his office.

"Well, I thought the Upper East Side might have been getting sick of seeing your blonde mug all the time. I thought it was time to change it up a little with a brunette instead," Blair retorts flippantly, giving Serena a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"And what better brunette bombshell model out there than our very own Blair Waldorf?"

"Adriana Lima had contract issues with Victoria Secret and it was just chaos in the casting session. So I thought if you want something done right, you might as well do it yourself," Blair proudly proclaims with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

Serena laughs and hooks her arms through Blair's. Some things just don't change and Serena was glad Blair managed to keep her snarkiness intact despite the time and distance apart. The day Blair Waldorf is without her scathing wit is the day the world as Serena Van der Woodsen knew it has come to an end.

"Let's go get some dinner, super girl!"

xoxo

The digital clock on his desk reads: 4:29am.

Chuck Bass rubs his eyes and peers out the window behind him, noticing that already the night was no longer quite as dark as he remembered the last time he checked the time. Another all-nighter. They have been his constant companion the last few days. He's been in his office for so long, he's not sure he remembered how the outside air smells like anymore. But then he remembers he's in New York so the outside air can't be that amazing that he should miss it.

Chuck once again rubs his sore eyes and reaches for the coffee pot only to find that it is empty. He sighs and motions to buzz Arlene to get him a new pot of coffee only to remember it's four in the fucking morning. He heaves another sigh and grabs his jacket. Maybe a short walk to the nearby 24/7 grocery would clear the headache he's had since Monday. _Can you call it a headache when the pain is in your chest?_

Chuck likes to ignore such nagging thoughts.

xoxo

Serena is late for her eight o'clock fitting and the designer is having a hissy fit. It has _not_ been a very good morning for one Blair Waldorf.

She hates the uncertainty.

Blair calls Serena, again, and again it goes to voicemail. In the middle of leaving an elaborate threat, the lovely blonde in question stumbles into the studio.

"B! I know I'm late! I'm so sorry! I—"

Her tirades of excuses come to an abrupt stop as Blair switches from being super girl to super bitch in the time span of two seconds. The staff trip over themselves to get into order.

"Enrique! Quit your sniveling and get this fitting started! S! Strip! And make it snappy. We have only 5 days left till the runway show, people! Let's move it!"

She likes the control.

xoxo

The fitting finished on schedule thanks to Blair's merciless supervision, allowing the two friends exactly 15 minutes for an early lunch before Serena had a go-see.

"Blair! Pause for a second, I need to tell you why I was late."

"It's alright, S. I should've known better than to schedule an 8 o'clock anything for you. Let's just go grab a salad next door, you have that meeting with Zac Posen's people at 11:30… even if he _is_ competition," Blair spares a quick glower at Serena before becoming once again absorbed with her phone, "Besides, I need a new mole in there… the last one was disastrously incompetent. If Posen thinks he can steal two of my designers away from me and get away with it, he has another thing coming."

If Blair Waldorf was a pro at scheming in her high school days, by now she was the grand high master.

"B! Will you stop playing with your phone and listen to me for a sec?"

Serena accentuates her seriousness by snatching Blair's phone out of her hands mid-text.

"What is it?!" Blair cries out exasperatedly, an indignant look on her face and her hands on her hips. Every pore of her being screamed 'super bitch mode' and despite the warning signs, Serena remain adamant on gaining the feisty brunette's full attention.

"A particular photographer has followed you from Europe. And I'm not talking about your stepbrother, Aaron."

To say Blair was shocked would be an understatement. Various emotions chased themselves across her face. What ended up winning the race was rage.

"Carter Baizen is in town?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

If Blair had a list of reasons for why she left Europe, Carter Baizen would be at the top. However, by now she has too many lists to count and so Carter had been pushed to the farthest corner in the back of her mind.

"I tried! You're the one too busy plotting against Zac Posen to even listen!" Serena declares with an eye roll.

"Who, what, when, where, why?!" Blair demands.

"I saw him meeting with Stella from the marketing department when I was heading here from the office. Maybe he's checking out how his handiwork turned out. I overhead Stella saying that the ads have been getting pretty good responses from the public… How does marketing even figure out what the public likes? Do they do those random surveys or something?"

Let it be Serena who becomes distracted over marketing techniques in the middle of an important conversation.

"Serena! Focus! Give me all the information you got. The last thing I need to deal with on top of Zac Posen trying to sabotage my runway show is Carter Baizen stalking me."

"We're not getting that salad are we?" Serena states more than questions, her eyebrows quirked in non-amusement.

"You're a model. You're not supposed to eat. Now dish! For lack of a better term," Blair replies tartly.

xoxo

Unlike Chuck, Carter has always been very direct in his pursuits. So, she had been avoiding going back to the office all day because that would be the first place he'd go look for her. But, the day fades away and eventually she has to go back to her office to finish up some paperwork to secure the venue for the runway show.

She wasn't surprised when he was there waiting for her. That knowledge does not erase her irritation.

"Hello, beautiful."

The complimentary words are met with a glare that seemed to proclaim the end of days.

"What? Not glad to see me, Waldorf?" Carter says with an arrogant smirk, making himself comfortable in Blair's leather chair.

"Carter. I can't say that I am. What are you doing here? The last time I checked you had at least three full months booked with shooting assignments in Prague and London."

"I managed to move things around," he answers with a nonchalant shrug, "especially when I heard you were heading back to the states. New York is so beautiful this time of the year isn't it? Of course, its beauty can't hold a candle to yours…" he says with a seductive smile.

"I thought I was clear the last time we spoke that that _thing_ we had between us was over."

She ignores the flicker of hurt in his eyes. She shouldn't have worried. He's Carter fucking Baizen, so he recovers quickly and the mask of bravado is back on.

"Ouch. You sure know how to hurt a man's ego, Waldorf."

"Well I thought yours was so big a bit a deflation couldn't hurt."

She's made her bed, so now she's going to sleep in it. Or not sleep in it, not with Carter Baizen anyways.

"You know…it's funny. You ran away from Bass because of his inability to have a serious relationship and yet now asking you to move in together is too much? I just don't know how you please you," Carter sighs, shaking his head.

Despite his teasing tone the words are a little too sharp for comfort. She reprimands herself for the stab in her chest, but she's not Blair Waldorf for nothing.

"You can please me by getting out of my chair and out of my office," Blair bites out.

"I can think of another way of pleasing you…" Carter answers with smirk.

The lecherous remark reminds her too much of another brown haired bad boy and stirs up unwelcomed memories of similar words in a similar setting and a wholly different reaction. It must be the city, because such memories have not invaded her thoughts for a long while.

Carter catches the flinch she tries to hide and makes his way to her side.

"Carter –"

"No, you don't get to talk anymore. Every time you want to talk it ends up badly for me so I'm going to talk and you're going to listen."

The joking manner of which he's held up to now has disappeared. It is replaced with such solemn gravity that she wishes he would maintain the lighthearted mocking façade he had kept up when she first walked into her office.

"You can't run away this time. You have to stay here and hear it."

His words echo the ones she once spoke of and she can feel herself unraveling.

"I told you I was in it for the long haul and I am," he says as he takes her hands in his, his eyes reads sincerity loud and clear. At the moment she wishes she was blind.

"I love you, Blair Waldorf."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading-tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N:** This chapter features some more Carter Baizen love. For Chair fans, Chuck will be coming up soon, I promise! I wanted to develop the Carter side of the relationship when Blair was in Europe. I hope it came out okay. Again, reviews/comments are absolute love!

**Chapter Two**

When Carter Baizen first saw Blair Waldorf at the Vogue Paris photo shoot back in spring 2014, he admitted he was curious and amused by the fiery brunette's head bitch in charge attitude.

At the time she would have a certain focus on her work that he admired. She always worked as if something other than a deadline was chasing her and yet, he never saw her demand anything less than perfection. Waldorf Design's sales sky rocketed that year.

They never worked all that much with one another in the beginning since Carter was not all that serious about photography. Photography only provided an excuse for him to travel the globe and surround himself with the world's most beautiful women. After all, he had a trust fund back home and a certain wanderlust that couldn't keep him in one city for more than a month or two. When Blair Waldorf was in Paris, he stayed for five. After which he would follow her to Milan, then London, and back to Paris again.

_He was smitten._

xoxo

There was a hint of melancholy beneath the wit and charm she'd show to the rest of the world. The burden of worlds could have been resting on her shoulders, but she'd make it appear feather light. It made her devastating magnetic to him who, despite his own disarmingly charming demeanor, held his own demons at bay behind those sapphire blue eyes.

He approached her cautiously because he's hunted in the jungles of South America before and he knows the look of a wounded animal when he sees one. Their past encounters can be described as rocky at best and he doesn't want her to bolt at the first sign of danger. The process is slow, but he's a patient man. Eventually the feral look in her eyes when she looks at him begins to dissipate.

Photography becomes not just a means of escaping responsibilities. From the pride she puts into her work and indirectly his, he begins to appreciate his own occupation a little more. The image he captures on film becomes less superficial and more genuine. He no longer flirts for fake smiles and he no longer accepts shallow, contrived expressions.

The more he works with her, the more enchanted he becomes.

She was an enigma of sass, spunk and vulnerability all wrapped in a lovely porcelain skinned, doe-eyed package of a girl.

_He was infatuated_.

xoxo

They'd begun a tradition of chocolate croissant breakfasts. They would spend late nights poring over the thousands of photographs taken earlier in the day, because there is no rest for the wicked and Blair Waldorf and Carter Baizen is definitely consider by many among the wicked.

These little pockets of time they share together brought insight into the mystery that is Blair Waldorf.

They would play twenty questions and he'd bask in the sound of her voice. When asked what she wishes to do, she hesitates for a second and then proudly proclaims that she wants to make the name Waldorf synonymous to Chanel, embedded into fashion history for all of eternity. He's not surprised at her ambition.

"What about you?" she'd ask, eyes twinkling, "What does Carter Baizen wish to do in the entire world?"

He pauses for dramatic effect before replying.

"I wish… that I could photograph you."

"Me?!" She says incredulously.

"Yes," He replies matter-of-factly.

"Whatever for? I'm purely a behind-the-scenes kind of gal. I'm no Serena, I'm not very photogenic."

She gives him a self-deprecating laugh and he is in utter shock that someone so amazing would think so little of themselves.

"Don't be ridiculous! You're gorgeous," he rasps out, praying she doesn't notice the yearning in his voice, secretly hoping that she does.

She blushes, but shakes her head.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. I am immune to your charms, Baizen."

"Au contraire, flattery will get you _everywhere_. And that blush of yours prove that my charms are as effective as they ever were," he says with a cheeky grin.

She replies with her signature eye-roll.

"Come on, Waldorf. Don't tell me you're afraid of a bit of shutter and lens."

"Are you trying to challenge me?" She says with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression.

"Is it working?" He retorts.

It might have been the wine they've been drinking, but suddenly Blair feels oddly daring. It was a feeling not dissimilar to the one that possessed her to march on stage and dance at Victrola so many years ago.

She gives him a smug look, sets the wine glass down and struts her way to the abandoned photography set. He's smiling ear-to-ear and he follows her, taking his spot behind the lens.

She strikes a pose and a smile that echoes Mona Lisa and he doesn't need telling twice before his camera is clicking away.

_He is in love._

xoxo

Blair never talks about why she left New York in the first place, but Carter could guess it had something to do with a certain Upper East Side playboy that goes by the name of Chuck Bass. He was surprised that they had even lasted so long, given Chuck's penchant for womanizing.

While they met in Paris the first few months, he had seen all the tabloids following Chuck Bass's philandering; each issue featured the new girl(s) of the week. He had idly wondered to himself if Chuck had to order in additional bedposts to accommodate the numerous notches.

He hides the articles from her, but he knows she knows and she knows he knows and it's all sort of useless, but he keeps doing it anyway.

"Where are you keeping all those tabloid magazines, anyways?" she asks one day when the newsstands were flooded with a particularly scathing report on Bass's extracurricular activities.

He looks up at her from examining his photo negatives and merely answers, "What magazines?"

She smiles the most terribly bittersweet smile he's ever seen in his life and he casually thinks _"Hershey's got nothing on her."_

The next day when he musters up the courage to ask her out, she says yes and he thanks Chuck Bass for once instead of cursing him. Carter knows that he is the rebound guy, but right now he doesn't care if he's her fucking towel boy.

On days when he finds himself watching the afternoon wane into twilight with Blair tucked securely in the crook of his arms, he ponders to himself what the hell could have possessed Chuck Bass to let such an exquisite creature go. Nonetheless, he's grateful for it.

For a long while he held a distant love/hate sentiment towards Blair's other man across the Atlantic. That fact is about change as he gives the flight attendant his ticket, ready to follow Blair back to New York. Carter Baizen was never one to take things lying down, that is unless Blair Waldorf was lying on top or under him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N:** Chuck is a very difficult character to write. Mostly because there's already canon Chuck so I can't take liberties with him as I can with Carter, who has less screen time and therefore more untapped story potential. I hope it came out alright, I tried my best to portray what Chuck's side of the story is. Also some more insight on why Chuck and Blair are no longer together. Anyways, reviews/comments are love as always. Please enjoy! =)

**Chapter Three**

He should have seen it coming, but he didn't. He was in love and impatient and ready for the next step, so he ignored the signs when they flashed and blared right before his eyes.

The first time he tried to hint at it was when they were at dinner with Lily. Lily had on her mother's ring. It was something she said she thought should finally be taken out of the safety deposit box it had been in since Cece's death a couple of years back.

"It's a lovely ring, Lily. Cece was…," Blair grasps for amiable words that would describe the late Cece Rhodes. "….an admirable woman."

Lily laughs.

"She was a manipulative, scheming, vile woman!"

"Which is why Blair admires her," Chuck mutters under his breath which gains him a swift kick in the shins.

Lily pretends she doesn't notice (because this is obviously not her first dinner with Chuck and Blair) and continues studying her ring.

"She was horrible… yes… but lately I can't remember that sort of thing very well anymore. I just keep replaying memories of her taking me and Carol on shopping excursions."

Today Lily seems younger, basking in the memories of childhood and happy times.

"Isn't it funny how it's when people leave you, you can only remember the good memories? No matter how little good memories there are?"

Again Lily laughs.

"Oh, listen to me. I'm an old lady prattling on about the past. You two are young. You have so much time ahead of you. You should spend it making many good memories."

"You're nothing if not lovelier than when you were twenty, Lily," Chuck cajoles.

Lily shushes him, but she's blushing and flattered.

Chuck takes hold of Blair's hand underneath the table. She turns to him and smiles a small smile, tracing little patterns on his palm.

"You know…" he starts, eyes glinting with meaning. "I also have a certain ring in a safety deposit box. Perhaps it's time to take that out, too?" He suggests.

The tracing stops and she retracts her hands. That should've been the first sign.

"Maybe another time," she says with a restrained smile, turning away from him. "That was a wonderful dinner, Lily. I'm sorry to excuse myself, but I feel a headache coming on."

Why is it that people always blamed a headache for the pain in their chests?

xoxo

The second time he tried to approach the subject was at function for the children's hospital. It was one of the few causes he actually cared about.

"Mr. Bass! Thank you so much for your generous donation. We're very grateful for the new equipment and the toys you sent. The children wanted to give you these."

The hospital director gives him a warm smile and gently nudges a couple of kids towards him. They hand over a thick stack of handmade cards shyly and repeat the director's gratitude with a blush. Blair gives his arm a supporting squeeze.

"Mr. Bass! I want to be like you when I grow up!" One of them exclaims.

He smirks and musses up the boy's hair.

"Do you now? And why would you ever want to do that?"

The boy's eyes are mischievous when he answers.

"Because I want a hot wife when I grow up, too!"

The boy scampers away with the other children while he and the director laughs. He turns to Blair as the director takes his leave.

"Speaking of which…I wouldn't want to disappoint the boy and tell him you're not my wife. Maybe it's time to make it true," he says smoothly, his eyes searching hers.

Her smile is rigid and he doesn't remember the last time he's seen her smile from ear to ear anymore. He chalks it up to stress from recent events.

"Your glass is empty," she says, averting his eyes. "Let's go get some champagne."

The deflection of an answer disturbs him, but he lets the issue slide from his mind when later that night she wraps her arms around him and kisses him like she's drowning and she needs to keep kissing him to stay alive.

xoxo

The third time he is no longer beating around the bush. They're at dinner at her favorite restaurant. He's booked the entire place and when dessert comes, a diamond ring is the garnish. He's nervous, but sure of himself and so he goes onto one knee, takes her hands into his and pops the question.

The next day she disappears without a word. There's no quickly scribbled letter on his pillow when he wakes up, no voicemail on his phone, just her half of the closet cleared out and a few suitcases missing. He calls Serena and Nate, but they are both either ignorant or lying. He hates them all.

He begins to wonder if he's like his father. Despite the numerous conquests, the Bass men never seemed quite able to keep the women that actually mattered.

He drinks his day away.

xoxo

He finds out she's back in town from Serena who is sympathetic to his plight. He doesn't doubt however that if push comes to shove, she won't be standing on his side of the dividing line.

Blair is the one to leave _him_, but the world seems to believe that he's the one to blame. Sometimes he believes it too and racks his brain for when things started to go wrong.

It doesn't help that gossip girl has been detailing her encounters with Carter Baizen over in Europe. He distracts himself with leggy models, pretty actresses and flexible aerobics instructors. He knows it will get to her, he tells himself he's over the grieving phase and now he's bent on inflicting some pain on her to mirror the pain she inflicted on him. It works well until it doesn't. Whoring around only seems to make her fresh in his mind. The girl with him is always too blonde, too tan, too tall, too skinny, too everything that isn't Blair.

He then turns to work and his work day goes from usual 9-5 to 8-7 to 6-9, and on until he's basically living in his office. Arlene, his elderly secretary, disapproves, but she's been known to leave him a blanket and pillow. The new routine works so he sticks with it. The board is happier than ever and his pile of money grows by the second. He thinks he could do this forever. Until the new Waldorf ads goes up on Monday.

"Whatever it is that you did… just say sorry, man," Nate tells him one day over drinks.

He wonders if anyone had ever had to say sorry for a marriage proposal before.

"I heard Carter is back in town too," Nate adds.

Between his large gulps of scotch, Chuck decides that Nate is no longer his best friend.

xoxo

A week later it's Fashion Week and he's at the Zac Posen after party because he knows she has a secret rivalry with him and he feels a bit vengeful.

He's not surprised when he sees her arrive greeting Zac with a kiss on his cheeks and a whispered threat in his ear. She's always been known to follow the rule of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, tonight is no exception. He idly wonders which category she has put him into.

She is across the room, but he knows she notices him. That doesn't mean she's going to acknowledge that information and if that's the game she's playing, he goes along with it.

They don't make eye contact and stay in their respective corners of the party. It's a good thing there are two ways out because knowing them they'd challenge each other to stay on their sides rather than cross the threshold to exit.

Carter makes his appearance soon after and Chuck watches him make a beeline for Blair. The other man glances at Chuck, gives him an infuriating cocky smile and then proceeds to kiss Blair deeply. Cell phone cameras and paparazzi go wild.

Chuck conjures up all the goriest, horrific death scenes he's ever seen and replays them in his head, starring Carter Baizen as the victim. That night he leaves with Jessica Stam, followed by his own entourage of paparazzi. He hopes this enough to land him in her enemy category, at least this way he'd be able to stay closer. Revenge and scandal are always better than Happily Ever Afters, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N: **This is by far the hardest chapter to write. This is Blair's side of the story and I hope I got her feelings across because they were difficult to convey. Also note that I often try to cite in the fic itself most of the time whenever I'm quoting or paraphrasing or whatever, but sometimes I can't. So, that's what these little * are about. If I ever forget to cite anything, please let me know.

**Chapter Four**

She's a bitch for doing what she did because he's too damaged to take any more hits, but who's to say she's not broken as well?

She doesn't know why she's the way she is, but she can't help it. The whole thing is a total role reversal. He was supposed to be the one that wasn't ready for serious commitments, the white picket fence and children playing in the yard. But it's her whose pulse races a bit faster (and not for the good reasons) whenever the words: rings, weddings, wife and children comes up. So every time he pushes the issue, her fight-or-flight instinct kicks in.

Carter thinks the melancholy in her eyes is that of a scorned woman, he doesn't know it is guilt and regret. Carter and the rest of the world believe that Chuck's philandering ways was the catalyst for her pilgrimage across the Atlantic. She lets them, because she's not sure she knows why she left.

She should have been ecstatic when he finally asked the million dollar question (more like multi-billion dollar question considering what an alliance between their two companies would have meant, but she digresses). She wasn't surprised, he'd been hinting at it for months. She had also been avoiding it for months. You'd think someone as clever as Chuck Bass would have figured it out. But, here she is not even sure why she left in the first place, so who is she to say anything about… well… anything!

All she knows was that she wasn't happy. Far from it. They were changing, or at least he was. She felt like she was standing still while he was marching right on ahead without her.

It became exhausting planning brunches and charities and being his arm decoration at public events. Her days were full of meaningless small talk and fake smiles. She could see herself slowly turning into one of the Upper East Side's desperate housewives and he was so very eager to make it all official.

"Blair, dear. This is such a cute little brunch you threw. I just love these little… what are these again?"

"It's a quiche," Blair replies with a forced polite smile. This is the fourth time she's told the matronly old bat.

"You know, I heard the most interesting thing the other day. Did you know that Marian Webster has a new 'pool boy'? And she doesn't even have a pool!"

Gossip was the best the Upper East Side ton could offer.

"Makes one think what kind of services he could be supplying," trills another aforementioned desperate housewife.

"I heard from my cousin that Sarah Newlin* cheated on her husband with one of their own church members," supplies yet another.

"Was it with that one former construction worker? I would definitely like to get myself a piece of that pie myself."

"That's because you have a thing for rugged men."

"What can I say? I like it rough and dirty."

The other ladies collapse into a fit of giggles while Blair struggles to not roll her eyes. Even for gossip, these ladies were amateurs. Their so called news was lukewarm at best, she's already known about Marian and Sarah's illicit affairs for weeks and that's not even the best gossip out there. 'God, just kill me now,' she thinks after putting up with an hour and a half of nerve grating giggles and trills.

No, she couldn't say yes to his proposal when there she was planning another fucking fundraiser brunch. She couldn't imagine sealing the deal on her fate as 'one of them', to be subjected to these endless stupid functions for the rest of her life.

Sure she was working with her mother for Waldorf Designs at the time, but it was mostly all in name. Like, what the hell is a Creative Ambassador of Public Relations anyways? She just mostly did what she always did, wear dresses her mother made whenever she went out. It seems like the road she was heading on was one of a trophy wife. She didn't suffer through NYU to be a pop up doll and yet there she was doling out fake smiles and pleasant small talk like the best of them.

It wasn't until Cyrus's death and her mother's eventual retirement that was the waking call. Eleanor had become a shell of the woman she once was after Cyrus's heart attack. Her mother pulled into herself from the grief and Blair had to step in truly and fully take reins of Waldorf Designs if it were to not collapse altogether.

It was then that she realized that she couldn't keep on betting her happiness on the men in her life. They would either disappoint (her father) or leave in some way (Cyrus) or both (she hasn't forgotten about Tuscany or post-Bart Chuck.) and then what will she do? Why did her dreams always involved a ring, a big house and a man by her side? Where was the dream for Blair Waldorf and only Blair Waldorf?

Chuck, on the other hand, was in a great place now. He'd found his niche, changing and progressing into this new mature adult she almost doesn't recognize. And here she was, as lost as when she was a high school student back at Constance.

They were drifting apart. She could feel it, sense the storm brewing in the horizon that will ultimately lead to him or her or both seeking out other people and messy divorces and just plain old Un-Happily Ever After that is so common in the Upper East Side. No, to permanently anchor herself to him now would only mean drowning for the both of them. And she loves him too much to pull him down with her.

Simply put, she was afraid.

She doesn't really know for certain all the why's or what's or any of the details, but these whirlwinds of thoughts and emotions mean something and so she does what most people do when they're scared, they run.

xoxo

Waldorf Designs become more than just her mother's dress shop. She fills her days with supervising photo shoots and fittings and contract meetings, negotiating with the best of the fashion world. She has never felt so purposeful in her life.

Her mother's legacy is no longer just that hateful distant job that kept her mother away for most of her childhood. She understands now why Eleanor was so caught up with the fashion world. It's intoxicating, it's empowering.

She's starting to feel a little happy, until the newsstand start to fill with reports detailing Chuck's many conquests after her departure.

She knows it's her own damned fault and she can't hold his Lothario ways against him after what she's done but that doesn't stop the clenching in her heart.

xoxo

Carter sneaks up on her in his sly and delightful ways. She knows she's cruel and heartless to even start anything with him when they obviously have no future, but he makes her forget for awhile and right then she'd give anything for a little amnesia.

She doubts he's really serious anyways, after all if you ever google 'playboy', the Baizen name pops up just about as many times as the Bass one.

She was suppose to be finding herself, but a girl could only do so much after so many lonely nights bombarded with news of Chuck Bass and his thousandth flings. She was always a selfish bitch anyways, he knows that. So, given all this rational thinking, she enjoys herself.

xoxo

During the time they are separated by the large Atlantic Ocean, their respective companies' revenues rake in millions. They were always better apart than they ever were together, she thinks. It was the right choice to leave after all, he was doing well and she was doing well and she convinces herself that her decision was valid. Love stories are, after all, famous for the heartbreaks and sacrifice, made epic in the spanning of years and continents**.

When things with Carter start to show signs of her previous relationship with Chuck, she knows it's time to leave again. She curses herself for letting it go so far.

She doesn't know where to go anymore and so she goes back home after the pleadings from Serena, even though she's sure it's not a good idea.

When Carter comes after her, she's conflicted (more than ever). She's shocked that Carter Baizen, the infamous nomadic lady killer, was capable of what he was saying.

'_What is with these bad boys and their complicated emotional layers?_' She asks herself exasperatedly.

She admits to a heart string or two being plucked at his proclamation of love but it reminds her entirely too much of another time and another person and another life. She can't accept it.

Guilt, regret, remorse. They're the names of her constant companions.

xoxo

At the Zac Posen party, she doesn't acknowledge Chuck because that's the game they play; it's always some kind of game with them and she'd be damned if she didn't win. Some things don't change after all.

Nevertheless, there he was in all his Casanova glory, it opened up old scars that she thought had started to heal. Despite his show of playboy cavalier, she knows that when her back is turned he's giving her those signature 'I burn, I pine, I perish' *** looks of his. He probably knows she's been sending him her own looks when his back was turned.

Why do they always keep doing this to themselves?

"Why can't you just talk to him? He misses you, you obviously miss him. Why can't you guys work it out?" Serena asks.

"What's there to say?"

"Maybe that you're sorry?"

Blair gives Serena a snort. "If everything can be forgiven with a 'sorry', then there wouldn't be a need for the police."

"B…"

"He's never been one to graciously accept victory. I'll just be humbling myself to further humiliation and Waldorfs never go crawling back to anyone."

"Do you ever think he might just surprise you?"

"He's the one playing games. Who's that clinging on his arm, huh? He can't be sending you as his messenger when he's whoring himself out right in front of my face."

"Yeah and between your thing with Carter and those longing gazes you keep shooting him behind his back, you're not sending out mixed signals at all."

Blair doesn't answer and continues sipping her drink.

"Maybe he's just waiting for you to make the first move. You know, extend an olive branch?"

"You're delusional if you think Chuck is the kind of person to let bygones be bygones."

"You're just being stubborn," Serena sighs.

"I never said I wasn't."

Stubborn fools they are indeed.

People always said Chuck didn't deserve her, she think it's the other way around. They hurt each other too much to make it work. She's surprised it even lasted so long. She's only going to dig into his cracks deeper and one day he'll finally shatter from all the pressure. She should just let him go since it was her fault to begin with, her own fears that tore them apart. Some things are easier said than done.

When Carter shows up and kisses her, she lets him because maybe this will help Chuck move on (not that he hasn't move on yet, not according to 'the National Enquirer' anyways, last time she checked) and maybe if he hates her that's okay. She deserves the hate, it might just make things easier. As for Carter, she thinks to herself, 'one problem at time.'

The kiss works and Chuck leaves the party with Stam, one of the models Zac had managed to sign for fashion week before she did. As he's leaving, he finally manages to catch her eye and for a moment the world goes still. She thinks for a second that he'll turn around and maybe she can salvage things after all. Instead she gets the 'I'm Chuck Bass' smirk and wink. He then proceeds to give Jessica Stam the French kiss of her life amongst the flashing lights of paparazzi and camera phones. His message rings loud and clear _'two can play this game.'_

He can be such a vindictive bitch when he wants to be.

She spends the night tossing and turning after sending Carter home. She lies in bed thinking how even more fucked up everything is now than before she left.

---

* Allusion to True Blood, if anyone watches that. It's from another TV show and not real life so that's why I thought to reference it here.

** Reference to Veronica Mars. Logan talks to Veronica about how their love is epic.

Logan:. I thought our story was epic, you know, you and me.  
Veronica: Epic how?  
Logan: Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. EPIC.

*** Reference to Shakespeare's the Taming of the Shrew, and also the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N: **A longer chapter than usual. Yay! Next update might be late because I have a bunch of midterms coming up. As usual, review/comments are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Five**

Barely a week has gone by since he's seen her last after she came back from her self imposed exile to Europe. In that time he's reverted back to Plan A and have gone through two new bimbos aside from his Jessica Stam stunt at the Posen party. Once again the press has a field day (or two or three) on whether or not the Bass heir has gone back to his old ways. The board has already expressed their concerns Serena tells her. And to think he was doing so well. What is it about them that always cause things to self-destruct?

She knows this encore womanizer Chuck performance is for her and she doesn't know if she should feel flattered or angry that he still cared enough to try and piss her off. The trick is old, but it worked when she left for Europe and it works now. He's such a mother chucker.

xoxo

Carter asks her out on Saturday.

"Come see Spring Awakening with me tonight."

"Carter, I told you. That kiss was a one time–"

"I know you love Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson*. You made me listen to their renditions of 'No Air' and 'Somebody to Love' endlessly the last time they were on tour in London. Just come see it with me. What to you have to lose?"

He's giving her his best come-hither look and he's smiling that brazenly arrogant smile of his. So… she _reluctantly_ says yes because he's Carter Baizen and she doesn't know what he does, but he does it well. She's under his spell.**

xoxo

The evening was going well until she sees Nate Archibald.

"Blair! It's been awhile," he says with a hug.

People say New York City is a big place, but it seems to be shrinking judging by the rate she's bumping into her exes. She thinks maybe that really was Lord Marcus lurking somewhere in the corner.

"Nate, it's good to see you," she says returning the hug. "Are you here with anyone?"

"I'm just with a college friend from Columbia. I'd ask you the same, but I see _Carter's_ here," he answers, gesturing to the approaching Baizen.

"Nate," Carter greets, putting his arm possessively around her shoulders. "No hard feelings over the last time we met right?"

"You mean when you tried to scam me out of all my money or when I punched you out?" Nate seethes.

"It's been years, man. Let it go already."

"How about you back off, _man_," Nate replies sarcastically.

If Blair had a knife, she could literally cut the tension in the air.

"Blair, what the hell are you even doing with this guy?" Nate spits out.

"You shouldn't be the one judging, Archibald," Carter shoots back.

The scene is a little too reminiscent of Cotillion and from the way things ended then Blair wasn't too excited to allow the two men's dick measuring contest to continue. After all she's wearing one of her favorite dresses today.

"Carter, don't start a scene... Can you just give me a minute with Nate?"

Carter gives Nate a final glare but backs off as per her request. The moment Carter turns a corner Nate launches at her.

"Blair, you can't seriously tell me that you're with this guy. He's scum! He's a lying, scheming, sleazy player and he won't make you happy. "

"That's what people said about Chuck," she retorts.

"That's different. Chuck loves you," Nate says it as if it was the absolute universal truth.

She flinches at the words. Nate is naïve to think that love would naturally solve everything.

"What did Chuck do anyways that was so unforgivable? Whatever it is, I'm sure you guys can figure it out. You always had, always will. Please… just forgive him."

Blair doesn't meet Nate's eyes. She thinks to herself that she's a bitch for not taking responsibility for the break-up. She wants to shout, 'It's _me_ who needs to be forgiven!' She doesn't because she's afraid that if she really asks forgiveness, she won't get it. She certainly doesn't deserve it.

"It's not his fault," she whispers so low that Nate can barely catch the words. In a louder voice she states "…I take it back, Archibald. It's not so good to see you again."

She turns away from him before he can catch the tears falling down her cheeks.

xoxo

Chuck decides he's sick of playing the role of the cheating ex-boyfriend. He was the victim here and she's the one getting the public's sympathies while he's casted as the devil.

There was a time when he relished his skirt chasing reputation. She's ruined him and ruined him good.

"So, I saw Blair with Carter at the showing for Spring Awakening the other night," Nate states.

He doesn't know why he keeps hanging out with Nate.

"Still haven't talked yet?" Nate asks.

"No, Nathaniel. We haven't talked yet."

He gestures for a refill.

"So, I heard you just bought a new apartment complex?"

"Uh huh," Chuck answers nonchalantly, taking another swallow of his drink.

"Gemma Ward was pretty cute at the Elle party last night."

"Adora-fucking-ble."

Nate laughs heartily and Chuck allows himself a small smile.

"You should just go talk to Blair," Nate states solemnly.

"Nate, you really should just try and stick to one topic at a time…"

Nate ignores him.

"I think she misses you," he continues. "When I saw her she was all moody and broody the way you are. And we were at a Rachel Berry musical, and you know how she is about her musicals, so that was totally out of character. She kept on muttering some sort of nonsense, but I couldn't catch it. And Carter keep getting on nerves--"

"Is there a point to this, Nathaniel?"

"The point is… I was sick of mope-y Chuck back in 2008 and I'm sick of him now. So man up and go have a conversation with her."

Chuck answers with a glare, but Nate was right. This whole brooding thing was tiring the first time around. He deserves to know why she left, what the hell he did and he's going to fix this whole mess because damn it all, he's Chuck fucking Bass.

He ditches Nate and starts heading to the Waldorf office headquarters. It's 12 o'clock, but knowing Blair Waldorf's work ethics, she would probably be working through lunch. He makes it through the front doors and to the reception desk and he's starting to feel surer than ever. Of course, he admits the last time he was this sure, it didn't exactly pan out very well.

True to the precedent, the whole thing goes to hell when Carter Baizen comes walking through the front doors. It seems like everything always go to hell whenever Carter Baizen walks through the fucking door.

"Bass," he greets with a curt nod.

"Baizen" he replies.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Blair. I'd ask you the same question, but then I remember that you're her bitch. Here for a paycheck? Tell me, how is it not having an actual job?"

"I'm a freelance photographer, asshole. And I'm surprised you even dare to come here. Not after what you've done."

"You don't know anything, so I suggest you stick your opinions where the sun doesn't shine. Whatever happens between me and Blair is not of your concern."

"It is when she's currently my girlfriend."

"You're delusional, Baizen. You think she actually cares about you? You're just another prop to get at me."

"Maybe you're the delusional one. Last I heard, she hasn't even spoke to you in… how long has it been again? 2-3 years? And how many broads have you banged in that time? We get news over in Europe, too, you know."

"Please. If this isn't a case where the pot is calling the kettle black I don't know what is."

"I don't cheat on her every fucking time something in a skirt walks by."

"A) I actually prefer pants. I always enjoy a bit of challenge when it comes to undressing. And B) you don't know what you're talking about."

"The point is, Bass, stay away from Blair. She's in a good place and she doesn't need the likes of you."

"Stop pretending to be the jealous boyfriend. It's starting to look a bit pathetic."

"Go fuck yourself."

"I'd much rather go fuck 'your girlfriend'."

As Carter's fist rams itself into his left cheek, Chuck thinks to himself if the use of air quotes was a bit too much.

Security and a frantic Serena, who arrived just in time to witness Carter's glorious assault on his face, pulled the two of them apart, but not before Chuck managed to land a solid one on Carter's pretty eye.

Once Serena manages to wrangle him away from Carter, the hysteria ensues. At least until she notices that his face is oozing blood.

"Oh my god! Chuck! You're bleeding!"

"That's because Carter's the kind of meterosexual sissy that wears rings."

He hopes the cut wouldn't scar.

"Oh, yeah, that's real rich coming from the guy with the purple ties," Serena retorts.

"I consider myself a dandy, like Oscar Wilde."

Serena rolls her eyes and examines his face.

"What the hell were you trying to do?" Serena exclaims as she manages to give him a concerned look over and then go on to smack him in the head after she judges that the wound is superficial. As if he didn't already have a headache (a real one this time).

In between her mood swings from caring to berating, he thought that it was mildly comforting to see that his stepsister chose his side of the dividing line this time around.

"I was looking for Blair when the Baizen insect decided he wanted to try to use my face as a punching bag."

"Well, I'm glad you're finally trying to go talk to her, but you got your face punched in for nothing. Blair's not in the office today, seems like she decided to play hooky. She called in last minute this morning and cancelled all of her meetings and appointments. Jenny's in a frenzy trying to reschedule everything."

"Hooky? Waldorfs don't play hooky. That's below their divine nature."

"Well, whatever she's doing, she isn't doing it here."

xoxo

Blair has been standing in front of the Bass Industries office building for a good twenty minutes now. Before that she'd been circling the block getting the nerve to get out of the taxi. Once she got out, she didn't know what to do.

She contemplates just going up there and ask to see him. They can't avoid each other forever and maybe they can be civil about this. Maybe she can muster up the courage to take responsibility for what a messed up situation she put them both in. Maybe she'll apologize and he won't throw it back in her face. Maybe things can be fixed.

Then she remembers who she's dealing with. Chuck is, if nothing else, theatric. Can she really just expect to march up there and look at him square in the face and not expect some sort of drama to go down?

"This is stupid!" She exclaims aloud, ready to turn on her heels and forget the whole venture, but a voice calls out her name and she stops in her tracks.

"Blair?"

She knows that voice. It's the voice that took her messages and called to tell her that Chuck had to cancel a lunch date because of a meeting that went overtime. It's the voice that always talked her out of her hysterical phone calls to his office when things had been rough and she didn't know if she could live being the trophy wife waiting for her husband to come home late from work again.

"Blair, is that you?"

"Arlene," She gives the elder woman a smile. "It's been a while."

"It has been a little more than just a while. I heard you were back in the city, but I didn't think I would have a chance to see you."

"Well, here I am!" She states with false bravado.

"How are you doing, dear?"

"I've been doing wonderfully!" Blair struggles to make her eyes match her mouth.

Arlene's inquiring look tells her she's not selling this happy, peppy image very well.

"Are you here to see Mr. Bass? I'm afraid he left for lunch with Nate Archibald and has not been back since."

"Oh. I see. I… um… I don't know what I'm doing here anyways."

She fidgets in place, wringing the gloves in her hands until they're totally ruined.

"I was about to go take a break, do you want to come with me to get some coffee or something? We can catch up."

"That sounds wonderful, but I –"

"No, no. I insist. Come along now," the older woman states and begins to walk towards the nearby coffee house without waiting to see if Blair followed.

Blair had to give it to the woman. She always had a stern no nonsense manner about her that you just couldn't argue with. Must be why she can handle being Chuck Bass's assistant for so long.

They are seated quickly and order their drinks.

"Honestly, how are you doing?" Arlene asks.

"I've been great. Really. I've take over Waldorf Designs now and business has been good. We just got new ads up just a few weeks ago."

"Yes, I saw them... Mr. Bass saw them as well."

"Well, the point of having an ad is so that people can see them isn't it?"

Blair fiddles with the sugar packets on the table.

"I'm guessing you two haven't managed to talk yet? He's been a mess since you left."

"So I've been constantly told. But last I saw him, he looked fine to me."

The coffee comes and Blair preoccupies herself with rigorously stirring her drink. Arlene is an impassive figure across from her.

"I never understood why you two always had to make it so difficult. It makes life for _me_ very difficult as well, you know."

"Well, I'm sorry if Chuck has put you through anything strenuous."

"This could all be fixed if you just said that apology to the right person," the other woman states casually.

Of course out of all the people, Arlene would know the details of what actually went down between Chuck and herself. The woman even had the gall to call Blair out on it.

"You think it's that easy to just say that to him? Like it's so simple? You know how he is!"

"Blair… you know he loves you."

"Everyone keeps saying that. Love doesn't solve everything."

"Not if you're going to be stubborn about it."

"I don't know what I'm doing here," Blair states and gets up to leave.

"Sit back down. I'm not finished."

"Well, I am. And last I checked I was the president of a multi-billion dollar fashion house and you're just a secretary."

The words are sharper than she intended and she immediately regrets them the moment they leave her lips.

"Arlene, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it," She stutters out.

"It's alright. I've become accustomed to irrational angry mood swings as of late."

"I realize that must also be my fault as well."

"Blair. You can't keep avoiding things. Just tell him how you feel, he'll understand."

"How can he? I left him, just like all the other people in his life. It was the worst thing I could have done. I don't think he can trust me anymore. And I don't think I can stand it if he told me he won't forgive me and I know that's what he'll do," Blair struggles with the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. "Thank you for everything, Arlene. I wish you well."

"Blair, wait!"

Blair doesn't wait. She's already out the door and into the busy New York City streets, disappearing into the masses of people.

---

*Reference to Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson from the TV Show GLEE. I think that if Blair ever gets to meet Rachel they would rule the world. Both are type A and full of obnoxiously self-centered awesomeness and I love them.

**From the song Mercy by Duffy, semi reference to Glee since they did this song. Can you tell I am obsessing over Glee?


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful**  
Author:** fading_tales**  
Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter**  
Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.**  
Rating:** PG-13 ~ T  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N: **Phew! Just finished my midterms, so I finally have time to update! Yay! I really appreciate those of you who are sticking it with me throughout this fic. You guys are really awesome and I love all of your review/comments. I hope you enjoy this new chapter and keep those comments coming! =)

**Chapter Six**

She remembers the first few days after she left. She's been avoiding any form of contact and was cooped up at an obscure inn in the French countryside, screening her calls and telling no one where she was, not even Serena. Somehow, he still managed to find her. She's not really surprised.

She spots him outside the building one morning. He's looking a little worse for wear, hair disheveled, shirt wrinkled. It's like Prince Charming gone wrong. She guesses he would probably smell like whiskey and bourbon if the two stories of brick, mortar and glass didn't separate them. She worries about what Bass Industries is doing without him.

"Blair! I know you're there! Come out! I need to talk to you!"

She doesn't answer. Just turns away from the window and draws close the blinds. That only muffles his calls.

She makes sure the staff won't let him in, despite his numerous bribes and threats. They've occasionally quivered under his relentless pressure, but she remained adamant with her decision. Anything he offered, she matched, whether it be bribes or threats.

He stands outside her window for almost an entire day everyday for nearly week. Finally around dusk on the sixth day, several suited men show up and whisper urgent things in his ears. She watches as he argues with them, but eventually he follows them into the black limo. He gives her a longing glance before he closes the door and the limo drives away. He doesn't come back after that.

But he calls. Almost as relentless as he had banged on her inn door. She responds the same way she responded to his visit and goes back huddling in her bed and ignoring the world.

One time, when she's feeling the worst she ever felt and a little drunk off of the wine she's been drinking like water, she foolishly picks up one of his calls instead of letting it ring on into oblivion.

He doesn't wait for her to greet him.

"I'm sorry, but I love you."

It comes out in a rush, not the usual suave Bass style, but he doesn't care because for once she's actually picked up. He's of the belief that as long as he can talk to her, everything can be solved. This is just another minor hurdle in the obstacle course of Chuck and Blair. He can get through this. _They_ can get through this.

She's silent, but he could tell from the subtle way her breath slightly quivers across the telephone that he's struck a cord. He foolishly lets his heart soar a little. As long as he has the chance to speak with her, he can change her mind. He was sure of it.

"Don't make this difficult," she pleads.

He was never one to care for the pleadings of young women.

"I _will_ make this difficult, because nothing worth having ever come easy. I'm going to make this so difficult that you won't be able to walk away again."

She scoffs at his bravado.

"You should know by now that I've mastered the art of walking on four inch stiletto heels. I've even done it on gravel if you don't recall. You can't possibly make it difficult enough."

He laughs a little because even when they're at the edge of a major precipice in their relationship, they still manage to continue the banter.

"I love you," He repeats. He allows a pause for dramatic effect before continuing. "And those three words, eight letters used to mean something."

She doesn't make a sound, but he can tell that she's listening, it gives him courage that all this mess can still be salvaged and so he blunders on.

"Tell me you love me… tell me that it means something."

He hopes these familiar words would bring her home.

Blair Waldorf could already feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over, but she's learned how to survive very early in life so she bites down any semblance of emotion and lets her voice steel over.

"Maybe it did… it use to mean everything," Blair states, her heart beating in her throat.

He should be elated right now, but he can already sense the "but" coming from the way she hitches her voice at the end of the sentence. And without fail, his prediction comes true.

"But…"

Sometimes he wishes he didn't know her so well.

"It doesn't anymore."

She remembers the lines, just not in the way he wants her to.

"Whatever happened to 'the worst thing you ever done, the darkest thought you ever had, I'll stand by you for anything'?"

"Things change. I was talking about _your_ dark thoughts; I never said anything about mine. Also, you've got to stop quoting me."

"It helps me remember the good times."

"Yeah, because it's easier to be the one chased."

"I think you forget that often times it was _I_ who did the chasing. And it's me chasing now."

"Well, I'm sooo sorry for making it so troublesome for you."

Her tone is sarcastic and he can't see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Well then stop running and let me catch you. Blair… let's stop all this."

"I can't do this..."

"Then don't. Don't do this."

"I'm sorry."

His calm is disintegrating, his anger is escalating. He's feeling desperate. This must be what a drowning feels like, gasping for something that isn't there.

"Don't do this me. Don't you dare do this to me!"

"Chuck, please…"

At another time, in another place, he would've answered her with a salacious line that goes along the vein of 'I love it when you beg,' but right now, he's barely holding it together and he finds himself the one that needs to do some begging.

"What is it that you want, Blair? What is it that you need me to say this time? I'll fucking hire fifty planes to write 'I Love You' across the sky if that's what you want. You need to come back!"

"I know you love me. It isn't that."

"Then what is it?"

"I just need space right now."

"Space," he repeats the word like it's the filthiest word in the world. "Space is what people say when they don't have the balls to break up properly."

He's frustrated. If this were the stages of grief, he's done denial, anger and now he's ready to bargain. Well, a Bass-style negotiation anyways.

"If you're really going to do this, throw away everything we have, then don't expect me to wait for you. We're over. Done. Do you hear me, Blair?"

It's an ultimatum. He prays that she doesn't call his bluff.

"… does it have to be all or nothing?"

"It's not worth anything else," he states, his heart is beating a little too fast.

"…Then, I guess you don't need to come looking for me anymore," she rasps out.

He feels his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.

"No. I won't be," he states coldly.

Chuck Bass doesn't take things back. It used to be one of her favorite traits about him. He never went back on his word. Stubborn to a fault one would say. Blair bites down a sob.

"Good bye, Chuck," this is followed by a click that signals that she's hung up.

He keeps holding the phone to his ear, listening to the beeping that signals that there's no one on the other line. Nothing feels real anymore. It's as if he's walked through some ripple in space and time and now he's in some horrid alternate dimension. After all, how can he be Chuck Bass, if there's no Blair Waldorf? He can't believe it. This was it. This is the end of the line. So much for love everlasting.

xoxo

After leaving Arlene, Blair decides she just wants to curl up in bed and plans to get herself some well deserved peace and quiet. Plans are known to fall through. She enters her hotel lobby and immediately is bombarded by none other than Carter Baizen. She just can't seem to catch a break today.

"Welcome back, beautiful," he greets.

Immediately she notices the black eye he so fashionably sports. He's also nursing a swollen hand.

"Carter, what's happened to your eye?"

"It was a gift from Chuck Bass himself. I think it really works well with my complexion, don't you think?"

"You should really get some ice on that," she states with a grimace after examining his face.

"I didn't know you care so much about me, Waldorf," he says with a cocky smile.

"Don't flatter yourself," she quips, "I'm just all about aesthetics and you're hideous black eye is clashing with the decor."

She leads him back to her room and calls room service to bring up a first aid kit, ice and lunch. The coffee she had with Arlene isn't sitting with her very well.

"Wow, I get ice _and_ lunch. You sure know how to win a guy over. Are you going to kiss my boo boo, too?"

"In your dreams."

"Oh, most definitely. Although, my boo boos are then usually located much, much lower."

She answers with a thrown pillow at his face.

"I thought you were supposed to be tending to my wounds, not adding to them."

"That was when you weren't being so lewd."

"You say that, but I always knew you were one to love dirty talk."

She gives him the signature Blair Waldorf eye roll and then attends to the bell boy that brought up the things she ordered. Thank god for five star hotels and fast service.

They eat their lunches in silence for the most part. Carter has trouble holding the ice pack to his face while trying to shove the pasta into his mouth with his broken hand. He makes quite a mess and Blair wonders if he's doing it on purpose to mess with her.

"You're going to ruin my floor. And you look like a clown with that pasta sauce all over you."

"Well, I may be talented in many areas, as you would know…" he says with a smirk, "but you try eating with your hand thickly bandaged while using the other to hold an ice pack to your eye."

After a several more failed attempts on Carter's part, Blair can't watch the spectacle any longer.

"Oh, for goodness sakes!"

She gets up from her seat, marches purposefully to Carter's side of the table and takes the fork for his hands.

"Open up," she commands.

"My, my. Blair Waldorf, I never knew you to be so affectionate."

"Just shut up and open your mouth already."

"Wait… so do you want me to shut up or open—"

Carter is interrupted by the forkful of pasta that Blair decided to shovel into his mouth.

Blair continues feeding him and he doesn't know what he did to deserve this sort of happiness, but to whatever higher being that is watching over him, he fervently sends thanks. They soon polish off the plateful.

"You didn't get to eat your own lunch," he points out while she cleans his face of the remnants of pasta sauce.

"It's ok, I'm not hungry anymore."

"Maybe you'd like to try some of mine."

"What are you talking about, the plate's empt—"

Carter takes a page out of her book and prematurely ends her sentence by covering her mouth with his.

He tastes like tomatoes and basil. He tastes wonderful.

Carter deepens the kiss and she involuntarily lets out a soft moan. It's the only encouragement he needs and before she knows it he has her pinned against the wall and doing wondrous things with his lips and tongue.

It's been a long, tiresome day and with Carter's body on top of her, his hands in her hair, on her thigh, her breasts, it's all doing wonders to make her forget that it had been indeed a long, tiresome day. She has to admit, even with a heavily bandaged hand, Carter Baizen knows what he's doing.

She finds herself tugging at his shirt and his fingers hasten to the buttons. She frowns at the loss of his talented hands but soon he's gotten the shirt off and she smiling again. She runs her hands down his chest and he answers by ravaging her lips.

In their flurry they knock over a vase on the mantel and it comes crashing on the floor. She jumps at the sound and Carter stops his ministrations on her neck.

The white and blue porcelain vase lay in shattered pieces, oozing water and bruised flower petals. She's a little dazed from Carter's kisses, but those broken pieces of white and blue tug at her memories. Then it hits her like a dousing of cold water. She remembers this vase.

She was with Chuck when they saw it in the window display of a vintage store. It was one of those few days when he didn't have some sort of meeting or other business to attend to. She silently thanked Arlene for rearranging his schedule. They've had lunch at Butter and were leisurely window shopping, not that they didn't have the funds to practically buy out the entire block, but it was just nice to stroll around the Upper East Side with his arm around her. It had caught his eye as they passed by the vintage store. He said it reminded him of the porcelain strewn around his house as a child. Allegedly his mother had been a fan of the orient and loved their porcelain wares. At least that's what he's been told by his nurse. Bart doesn't confirm or deny, so Chuck took that as a yes.

"I always wondered why he would keep them around when they obviously upset him so much," Chuck tells her

"Maybe it is because at least they're there, as a monument to mark her memory."

"But in the end he's the one left behind. Sometimes I'm glad I never actually knew her. It's harder to miss something you never had."

"Chuck…"

Her heart really went out to him. Suddenly he didn't look like the CEO of a major real estate conglomerate. He looked young and lost and oh so fragile like that delicate porcelain vase. Nate was right, she's becoming sooo maternal. In another context it would be enough reason for her to grimace, but at the moment, she just wanted to hold him close to her and keep him from harm. Blair Waldorf has always been a romantic.

"It's just cruel to have to be constantly reminded that she was gone. I don't get why he didn't just destroy it all."

"Does that mean that if I ever disappear you're going to burn all of my things? I own some amazing vintage Chanel bags, you know. It would be a fashion crime if they no longer existed," she quips, hoping to somewhat lighten the mood. She admits it's not her most witty line, but somehow it earns his smile.

"If you were to disappear then I would disappear with you," he answers with a soft kiss. "As for our stuff, I guess it'll go to charity. Some hobo's going to use your vintage Chanel as his grocery bag."

She playfully hits his shoulder.

"Don't joke about disappearing. It was hard enough the first time."

"You're the one who started with the hypothetical disappearances."

"Well, I'm ending it. Nothing's disappearing anywhere," she proclaims.

"Except maybe your clothes…" he says slyly, slowly laying butterfly kisses across her cheek and moving down her neck.

She laughs and he smiles into the kiss. She convinces him to purchase the vase and then they rushed back to his penthouse. It was a good day.

The last time she saw this vase it was perched on the 3rd shelf of the trophy case in Chuck's study. So, how the hell did it get here?

All of the sudden all that forgotten weariness and anguish rushes back.

"Blair, what's wrong?" Carter asks.

She merely shakes her head in answer. She hadn't notice that she was crying. Carter futilely tries to brush away her tears.

"I can't do this…"

She hastens to re-button her blouse and frantically attempt to piece together the broken vase.

"Blair, leave it. You'll hurt yourself."

She ignores his pleas and continues to recklessly gather the broken shards.

"Blair! Stop!"

"I can't do this… I can't."

Carter wretches her hands away from the broken china.

"Stop! What's going on?"

Her breathing coming in ragged gasps and hiccups.

"I-It was… it was Chuck's." She stammers out. "I-I need to… I need to f-fix it."

Carter's face steels over with the mention of the infamous other man in Blair's life.

"Leave it."

"I-I can't. I need to fix it."

She tries to reach for the white and blue shards, but he won't let her.

"It doesn't need fixing. I'll buy you a new one. You can't put it back together."

"Don't tell me what I can or cannot do!"

"It's Bass's stupid vase. It belongs in the trash."

She answers him with a glare.

Everything that has enraged Carter over the whole Bass affair found itself bubbling up to the surface.

"Why can't you just get over him? What is it about Chuck fucking Bass that you can't get over him?! He's an asshole who couldn't keep it in his pants for less than a second. He was a loser back at Constance and he's one now."

"Don't talk about him that way!"

"Why not? Stop trying to defend him. He's a womanizer and a player. He's not good enough for you. Everything's his fault! The reason you left New York was because—"

"You have no idea what happened between me and Chuck."

"Then why don't you enlighten me. What? Did you walk in on him getting a blow job by one of his 'business associates'? Probably had some blonde showgirl on the side—"

"It wasn't his fault! And he didn't cheat on me or lied or anything. You know what he fucking did to drive me across the Atlantic? He fucking proposed. Yeah, diamond ring and all. And how did I answer? I ran. Just up and left. So stop acting like I'm the scorned woman and he's the bad guy. I'm the culprit here! And if I wasn't a fucking coward, I'd take responsibility for it and not let him be made the villain, but I _am_ a coward. I was stupid and scared and so I let him take the fall because naturally Chuck Bass always screws things up. Well, you know what? So does Blair Waldorf!"

To say that Carter was shocked about the revelation would be an understatement. Never had the thought occurred to him that Chuck was capable of commitment and that Blair was not. She had always been the girl with the big plans, the mapped out future. He thought commitment was what she wanted. Apparently, so did Bass.

Silence followed Blair's outburst. Various emotions and thought ran through Carter's head. One thought in particular kept rearing its ugly head despite his attempts to deny it. After a while he finally manages to get his mouth working properly again.

"…do you still love him then?" he asks.

She doesn't answer.

"Well, do you?"

Again, his question goes unanswered.

"You do, don't you?"

Her silence speaks volumes.

"Then, what about me? What the hell am I to you? Just another boy toy? Some part of one of your games?"

"Don't say that. I do care about you, Carter."

He scoffs. "You have a funny way of showing it."

Shock, hurt, betrayal. Everyone always said Blair Waldorf is a bitch, they have no idea.

"I… just can't sort all of my feelings out right now. Please understand."

"I don't think I can. What's it going to be, Blair?"

"I… I just don't think I'm ready yet."

Carter feels his heart being obliterated with every word that leaves her mouth. Was it just only moments ago that those soft red lips were on his? It's difficult to recall now how that felt. All he knows is that he can't look at her right now, so he doesn't.

He turns around and slams the door shut on his way out.

xoxo

Carter Baizen had fallen for Blair Waldorf and he's fallen for her hard. Ah gravity, thou art a heartless bitch.* Of course, if heartlessness was part of the equation, he wouldn't be having this problem to begin with. When did Blair Waldorf became more than a European fling? He was Carter Baizen! He wasn't suppose to do love.

As luck would have it, Carter finds himself sitting at one of the many Bass establishments after wandering around the Upper East Side for a good hour. There must not be a single bar left in Manhattan not owned by the playboy tycoon. Carter mentally adds that fact to his list of 'Things I Hate About Chuck Bass'.

He reaches for another glass, downing the liquid fire in a single swallow and ignoring the cotton in his head. He's been knocking down shots after shots when the Basshole himself walks in.

"Carter. Enjoying your drink?" Chuck drawls.

"Chuck. I'd say it's nice to see you, but then I'd be lying."

"How's that eye of yours?"

"It's a very pretty shade of blue and green, as you can see," Carter snarks, gesturing to the aforementioned eye. "Your jaw is sporting quite some lovely colors as well."

Chuck answers with a smirk and gestures to the bartender to bring him his usual. Carter takes another swig of his drink.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere taking pseudo artistic pictures?" Chuck jibes.

"Shouldn't _you_ be somewhere evicting lower income families and turning their homes into skyscrapers and speakeasies?"

"That's only on Tuesdays," he answers

After a long silence and several refilled glasses, Carter starts to feel a little more than tipsy.

"I thought I really knew her you know. Blair, I mean," Carter murmurs.

"You must have been drinking for longer than I thought if you think I'm about to have a little heart-to-heart with _you_ about Blair."

Carter ignores him. "I know she dumped you."

Chuck goes still and clenches his jaw. He's about to give Carter a response along the lines of _'I'm Chuck Bass, I don't get dumped'_, but Carter just keeps blundering on with his little monologue.

"And I should be happy," he pauses to swallow another drink, "that she left you. Cause, you know that means she's not the one nursing the broken heart like I thought she did. And that might mean I have a shot. But, it's the opposite. I always thought she'd never get over you…"

"She's not. That's the thing. She's never going to get over me."

The other man spoke with such certainty and arrogance that Carter laughs in response.

"You're one hell of narcissist, you know that?"

"I am, that doesn't mean it's not the truth. She left me. _This time_. Maybe next time, I leave her. It doesn't matter because in the end, we will be back together. That's just how it is. We're Chuck and Blair. Despite the yelling and screaming and the scandals and gossip, it's inevitable."

"Because Chuck and Blair is nothing if not dramatic," Carter drawls out sarcastically.

Chuck smirks and takes a sip out of his drink.

"I told her I loved her. Thought that's what was missing, her knowing. It was the first time I actually said that to anyone," Carter confesses.

"She does have that way of wheedling out the L word," Chuck agrees. "But you'll soon realize that I Love You's don't equalize with a Happily Ever After."

"I've already realized it," Carter finishes his drink and signals for another.

"I think you've had enough," Chuck states as he waves the bartender away.

"Looking out for me, Bass? It's very unlike you."

"I just don't want to have you dying in my bar. It'll be bad for business"

Carter nurses the empty shot glass. It reminds him of Blair sprawled on the floor, desperately grasping for the broken shards of porcelain. She makes quite a picture in his memory; tousled brown curls, swollen pink lips, surrounded by shattered ceramic and broken flowers. Even when she's breaking his heart, she's still the loveliest girl he's ever met.

"God…She's just so damn beautiful. Why isn't it enough that I love her? Why is it that there's always some Chuck fucking Bass in the way?" Carter slurs.

"Now you're grating on my nerves. You're a whinny drunk, did you know that?"

"Please, as if you're not pining after her, yourself. She left you after you fucking proposed! You must be sporting one hell of a bruise, and I'm not talking about your jaw."

"Don't talk like you know me."

"Oh, I know you. I fucking am you. Except I have the handsome blue eyes. Thanks for accentuating them with the shiner by the way. Who was it that introduced you to your first joint anyways? Lost Weekends? We used to be friends… a long time ago.** You and I. I know how you are."

Chuck snorts in derision. More old aching wounds were re-opening, but he's learned to cauterize them by now.

"Don't talk as if you were the model friend. After all, she must have learned from your example how to just get up and leave."

"You know what went wrong? You tried to clip her wings. Blair was never meant to be in cage, not even a gilded one."

Chuck clenches his jaw at the memory. "I wanted it all. Was that so much? I want it all or nothing. She'll soon realize it and come back to me eventually."

"That's the difference between you and me. I don't want it all."

"What do you want then?"

"Just her. However I can have her."

"Then I hope you'll be satisfied with watching from afar, because that'll all you're going to have."

"And here I thought we were having a nice moment."

"You're lucky I gave you that much. I seem to be in a generous mood today."

"Did I mention to say thanks for the black eye yet?"

"I have to admit, it is one of my best works."

---

* A line said by Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory! One of my favorite sitcoms in an era where good sitcoms rarely exist. It's only reality tv now, grrrr.

** From the theme song of Veronica Mars. I kind wanted to explore more of Carter/Chuck friendship past, but it didn't seem right to put it all in this chapter. Maybe more later. Yay/Nay?


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait! I've been finding it a bit difficult to write lately. I have a story planned out and the ending is actually already written, but it's the parts in between that don't seem to want to flow. Anyhow, I appreciate everyone who is sticking it with me through all of this and I hope you enjoy the story!!

**Chapter Seven**

Serena comes through the door with her sunshiny hair, bright smile on her face and oblivious to the emotional showdown that just went down in the dining room.

"Blair, I'm back!" Serena calls out as she makes her way from the hallway and into the main area of the suite. "So, I passed by that French bakery on 5th on the way home and I decided that we working gals deserved a treat. I brought back some of your favorite macaroons!"

Serena drops off her coat on the kitchen island and makes her way through the doorway that leads to the dining room.

"Hey, Blair? Did you hear me? I said I got you some of your fav-" Serena's sentence trails off as she caught the sight of her friend on the floor. "Oh, B. What happened?"

Serena immediately notes the tell-tale wet streaks down her best friend's face that could only mean that she had recently been crying. Blair doesn't look up from the chaos of broken porcelain and strewn flowers that have most definitely ruined the rug. Blair doesn't answer her inquiries and so Serena sets herself to the task of cleaning up the mess. She goes about sweeping up the porcelain for a while before Blair finds her voice again.

"... where'd this come from?" Blair asks as Serena tries to pick up all bits and pieces of the scattered flowers.

"What?"

"This." Blair gestures with particularly large piece of broken porcelain. "Where did this come from?"

"The vase? I got it from Eric when I went to go visit him a few weeks ago. Is something wrong?"

"No… it's nothing," she lies.

"Don't give me that. I know you, Blair. Talk to me."

Blair gazes up to Serena with glassy eyes and throws herself at the blonde with the open arms and the caring gaze.

Blair explains about the vase and Chuck and Carter and just about everything is spilling forth as if once she's turned on the tap it won't stop flowing. Serena feeds her macaroons and holds her through it all.

"I didn't want him to hate me. If I stayed and said yes we would've become miserable. Just another divorce waiting to happen. I just don't think I could have handled that."

"Wait…Let me get this straight. You broke up with him so that you wouldn't break up later on? So, you thought abandoning him, refusing to speak to him and running off to Europe with Carter Baizen was the best way to go?"

"Well, of course it'll sound stupid when you say it like that," Blair retorts.

"Well…How else can you possibly say it?"

Blair shoots her a glare.

"It can't always be rainbows and butterflies*, Blair."

Speaking of butterflies, they were doing all sorts of horrid things to her stomach as of late. PETA would probably put her on top of their hate list if they only knew the kinds of murderous thoughts she had towards those fluttering beloved god's creatures.

"You can't keep running away, B. You're going to have to face him sometime and rather than procrastinate, I say you just go and get it over with already. It can't be any worse than it already is anyhow. You need to set it straight. "

"I messed up, S. I really messed up."

"It's all gonna be okay, B. I know him. I know _you_. It's all going to work out somehow," Serena soothes.

"No, it's not. He has trust issues a thousand miles long and I don't think I've done anything to shorten that length. And I don't even know if I'm even ready to start again. And then there's Carter and its all just so complicated. This isn't something that can be fixed easily."

"That might be true, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. Anything's possible! You just need to face it is all," Serena chirps.

Blair sighs theatrically. "Why are you always so damn optimistic?"

Serena smiles and rolls her eyes at Blair's defiant petulance. "One of us has to be."

"This is all coming from the girl who's still pining after the golden boy and not making a move."

Serena flinches at the implication of her and Nate. It's been years since her betrayal and while Blair has long since moved on, Serena still feels the shards of guilt pierce her heart from the reminder.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've seen you two oogling each other the entire time I've been here."

"We're friends! And besides, he has that old Columbian classmate of his that he's been seeing."

"Oh please. I've seen the little chit when I bumped into him at the Spring Awakening showing. She has nothing on you."

"Blair… that's not very nice," Serena chides.

"Well, it's true. You can't be preaching to me about facing my problems when you're still lurking in the shadows."

"I'm not lurking!"

"At least you're not doing it very well. It must be hard to lurk with that shiny yellow hair of yours."

Serena answers by smooshing a macaroon into Blair's hair.

"S!" Blair shrieks.

The two laughingly crumble the rest of the bakery goods into each others' face and hair.

"Look at what you did. I just cleaned that floor!" Serena exclaims with a bright smile on her face.

"You're the one that started it," Blair points out.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up," Serena states as she pulls Blair up off the floor.

"S?"

"Yeah, B?"

"I love you, you know that right?"

"Yeah. I love you, too," Serena replies easily.

Serena never needed to be tricked, cajoled or coerced to say those three little words. Blair has always shared something special with the blonde bombshell standing beside her. They were each other's anchor in a world often rocked by violent storms. Unlike most of her romantic relationships, Blair's friendship with Serena has grown constant throughout the years. Blooming under their growing maturity and trust. Petty little rivalries fell to the wayside and were replaced with a sense of security and mutual affection. Girl friends have to watch each other's backs after all.

"Who needs boys when I got you?" Blair declares.

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Serena agrees.

xoxo

It's another evening with another social function to go to. Tonight is yet another fashion industry party. He doesn't know why he keeps attending them.

He's running a little late and impatiently taps his foot against the marble tiling as he waits for the elevator. Finally it comes and the door opens to reveal none other than Blair Waldorf herself dressed in a sexy little black cut-out number. They stare at each other with wide eyes for a moment, like deer caught in the headlights. He waits for the collision to happen, but it doesn't. It's just awkward silence. Maybe that's worse.

He's gone through such lengths trying to pin down Blair Waldorf, but now that he's finally got her where he wanted her, he's not sure what he's supposed to do.

"Hey."

He used to be known for his wit, this is what she has reduced him to.

"Hi," she answers tentatively.

The elevator dings annoyingly because he's standing there like a moron blocking the door from closing. Belatedly he takes a decisive step in and let the door close shut behind him.

"Fancy meeting you here," he says casually. He's aiming for the cool, nonchalant look and hopes she doesn't hear his heart pounding away in his chest.

"Yeah… Serena wanted me to get out of the office," she says. "I needed to get Waldorf Designs some publicity anyways. Apparently, this party is the solution to both problems..." she says with an eye roll. "How do I look?"

She gestures towards the dress she's wearing, but he can't take his eyes off her face.

'_Beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking, I'd fuck you right here, right now if only I wasn't so stubborn and you weren't the bitch who broke my heart into a million little pieces,' _he thinks.

"It's not usually my type of dress, but Serena forced it on me," she rambles on, not meeting his gaze; he still can't take his eyes off of her. "I don't know what I was thinking listening to her," she says, fiddling with the hem, smoothing and re-smoothing the skirt part of the dress.

She's rambling and it would all be very funny if he's not thinking about kissing her and strangling her to death at the same time.

After all her fidgeting he finally allows himself a glance towards the dress in question. It is a bit edgier than Blair's usual style, he admits. But like everything Blair does, she does it well and the dress works on her.

"Stop fussing. You're hot and you know it, so stop pretending otherwise," He says, while trying to focus his sights on the elevator numbers instead of the little brunette by his side.

He had said it in a condescending tone, but she recognizes a Bass compliment when she hears one. It makes her smile a small smile. He catches it at the corner of his eye. They both watch as the numbers of floors increase.

"Where's Carter?"

"… He'll be at the party."

"I see."

"Where's your date? It's odd to see you without a girl or two on your arms. Has Chuck Bass been finally rejected by the girls of Manhattan?" She's trying to go for a light teasing tone, but it doesn't come out quite right. It sounds awkward to her ears even as she says it.

"Oh, don't you worry about me. I have a meeting with petite blonde later this evening."

He means his one of PIs, but she doesn't have to know that. Despite his façade of playboy extraordinaire, he hasn't actually shared the company of bed with anyone for quite sometime now. It's almost a little too pathetic and he hates her for having this effect on him.

"Of course. Chuck Bass never needs to worry about the supply of females ready to throw themselves at him." She says it in a teasing voice, but her eyes can't complete shield the hurt, the betrayal. Not that she has any right to feel those things when she made the ultimate betrayal of all.

He lets her thinks what she wants her to think and thus silence ensues. He regrets it immediately.

He struggles for something to say, something to diffuse the awkward silence that has begin to stretch on to, what seems like at the time, an eternity.

"What do you think of the weather?"

The rapid heartbeat must be doing something to his brain because this is the second time he's put his foot in his mouth. He's starting to feel a little irritated that she's leaving him to do the talking. Instead she just stands there, giving him an amused look, signature arched brow included.

It was strange to exchange these silly little pleasantries as if they were strangers. They're talking of nothing that really matter, ignoring the giant elephant in the room that is their messed up relationship. He lets it continue this way because if so he can forget that they're not Chuck and Blair anymore. As if their history didn't rival that of Cleopatra and Mark Antony. He hopes it won't end the same way, but right now he's not sure if he loves her or hates her. What is that they said about fine lines?

"A little chilly…" she finally answers.

He's completely off his game tonight, but she can't blame him. She's feeling a little tongue-tied herself.

"I hear it should get warmer next week," he adds defiantly. Because if Chuck Bass decided that he wanted to talk about the weather, then the hell with it, he's going to talk about the weather!

He then continues to ramble on about said weather and how global warming is supposedly making New York winters unnaturally short and so on.

She would think this all terribly funny if only he wasn't giving her that sidelong look that told her that while he hasn't made up his mind whether he hates her guts or not, he's imagining throwing her against the elevator wall and having his way with her. It's a look she's used to receiving being A) as he put it, "hot" and B) a bitch. It's also a look he's used to giving because he's A) Chuck Bass and B) … well, part A really says it all.

When the elevator doors open they reveal an UES party in full swing.

Champagne flowing, music blaring, beautiful people mingling and making scantily veiled insults to one another. All these things seem to stop and turn to the sight of the infamous couple in the elevator. This is the first time they've been spotted together in the last two and half years. Once again, the familiar clicks of cameras fill the room.

He seriously needs a drink.

He turns to her and for the first time in a long while, they meet each other's eyes and don't break away. Her eyes are chasms. They speak of more sorrow than someone her age should know. He wonders if his are the same.

'_Maybe it's time for a new beginning. Maybe I won't be a stubborn ass for once and she won't be the bitch she usually is,'_ he thinks.

As if fate was answering his unspoken question, Blair breaks his gaze, turns around and walks off in the opposite direction.

You can't take the bitch out of Blair Waldorf just like how you can't stop Chuck Bass from being a stubborn ass. Because if he wasn't he would have grabbed her arm as she was pulling away, like he was currently imagining. He would have dragged them away from this stupid party and find a nice secluded place to kiss her senselessly and thoroughly, making her thus susceptible to his will and he would never let her out of his sight again. But like mentioned before, she's the kind of the bitch that walks away and he's the stubborn ass that lets her.

He was stupid to think that things will miraculously resolve itself.

An elevator ride takes only five minutes. It's not enough time to get past those awkward silences and forced small talk. Not enough time to bridge the gap that they've created. Not enough time to bring back Chuck and Blair.

xoxo

Carter has done many horrible things in his life. He's lied and swindled and stole. It was always a stranger that got hurt, suffered from the mess he created. He never cared about the victims of his cons. After all, if they were dumb enough to be manipulated, to be cheated, then they deserved it didn't they? For the first time in his life, Carter seriously hates himself for what he's done. But the cost of doing nothing outweighs the cost of his sin.

It was an act of desperation he tells himself. It was the sight of _them_ together. It struck him for the first time how much they seemed to fit so perfectly. Hell, they even matched. Her black cut out dress and his all black tuxedo, her red lipstick matching the exact shade of his pocket handkerchief. They looked like they just came out of a fucking motion picture.

What hit him the hardest was when they stepped out of the elevator and the press cameras started clicking away. Despite the chaos, there they were, just standing there and looking at each other as if no one else was in the room. It was the kind of look that inspired Paris to steal Helen and launch the Trojan War. He's never seen that look on her face before.

Maybe Chuck was right. They were inevitable and who was he, but an obstacle in the way of the epic story of Chuck and Blair. He'd just about to give up all hope when she breaks the intense staring contest and turns around and walks away. If he was anyone else he'd feel sorry for the poor guy. Blair Waldorf was a master at breaking hearts.

He catches her eyes and she mouths an apology, but doesn't take a step closer than ten feet. Blair spends the rest of the evening schmoozing with the best of the fashion world.

He calls Eleanor the next morning.

He tells her that Blair's been having problems back here in New York, particularly with a certain Chuck Bass; this much isn't too big a stretch.

This catches Eleanor's attention immediately. 'Toleration' was one thing. 'Like' was another. Eleanor has always been known to vilify Chuck Bass. Her recent loss hasn't been much helping the matter.

Carter spins stories of Bass's harassment of Blair and the endless problems she's also been dealing with at work. He implies that Blair has been bending under pressure and someone needs to take Waldorf Designs off her hands. This isn't the first time Carter has twisted words to fit his malicious agendas. It's all almost too easy. Eleanor eats it all up and books a flight immediately.

It's a low blow, even for him, but he needs something to distract Blair from the possibility of reconciliation with Chuck which seems increasingly possible. Blair's mother issues are well known and he's possibly the biggest asshole ever to use this as leverage against his losing battle for her heart, but like he's told Bass, he wants her any way he can have her, even if that means from circumstances of his own orchestration.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**A/N: **I actually wasn't sure if I should post this one up yet because I still have issues with it. But I thought… what the hell. This was really hard to write as I mentioned before my muses seem to have fled. I also didn't know if I should have broken this up into two chapters or not just because of the flow of the story. Anyways I just had a lot of issues with this chapter, so please bear with me. Thanks again to all of you who continue to read my fic! =) Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

**Chapter Eight**

Blair opens the door to her office the next morning to a rude awakening. There, standing in the middle of the room in all her glory was Eleanor Waldorf.

Seven hour flights showed no visible damage on Eleanor that you could tell. Her pristine Chanel suit is neat and pressed. Her hair is immaculate and done in an elegant style. Only her eyes shown any sign of weariness and that's often overlooked because no one in their right mind would stare Eleanor Waldorf directly in the eyes unless they had a death wish.

"Hello, Blair. I was just going over some of the press files for the spring collection."

Blair tries to put on a cheerful face despite the unrest stirring in her stomach.

It's been a little while since she has seen her mother. When Eleanor eventually got over Cyrus's death, she had decided to throw herself into a lifestyle of leisure and idleness. She spent her days shopping and socializing with the other idle rich in Europe, more open and less controlling. She had willingly stepped aside and let Blair continue managing the company as she had done since Cyrus's funeral. All in all, Eleanor Waldorf had seemed… content, at least the last time Blair spoke with her. Things were still shaky between them, but they were getting better.

Blair didn't know what to expect now that she's shown up looking and acting like she's back to her old self. The old Eleanor that was controlling, overbearing and critical. Basically someone Blair had not very much liked. It was as if all of the work Blair's late stepfather did to melt the icy walls surrounding Eleanor's heart had been undone.

"Mother! What are you doing here?"

Blair trains her voice to be ever polite and calm despite the panic she feels.

"I just thought it was about time I took a look at how the company was doing. I've been hearing you've been having some trouble transitioning."

"What are you talking about? You don't need to worry about the company, I've been handling it."

Once again, Blair becomes that adolescent girl seeking her mother's approval. Her past insecurities, the ones that made her look into a mirror and hate the reflection, were unearthing themselves from wherever she had buried them.

"Yes, so I've heard. Nevertheless, I think that it's time you take a small vacation, dear. I know New York hasn't been the easiest move. You've been putting too much time into work and I was fine with it when you were in Europe where your father and I were a short distance away, but here? No. New York is a different matter. There are… certain _people_ here to influence you. Set you on the _wrong_ path."

Eleanor's disapproval of Chuck had not been lost on Blair. While they had been together there was a level of tolerance and Cyrus had always acted as a buffer. But now, both those conditions were gone and Eleanor's tolerance wears thin. She had never actually voiced it, but it was always implied in the thinly veiled insults and the sidelong looks every time his name came up.

"I'm doing _fine_," Blair insists.

"True. I cannot find fault in your management of the company, but let's be honest, Blair. You're not a fashion designer and this is a fashion house. You don't need to bother yourself with these things. Come, let's go back to Europe. Jenny can handle the company. I plan to make her chief designer sooner or later anyhow."

Blair's stunned by Eleanor's flippant remark over the inheritance of the company, _their_ company.

"You can't be serious. This is _Waldorf_ Designs!"

Eleanor waves her off.

"And it still will be. Don't worry your pretty little head. You will not be in want of anything for the rest of your life. Your father and I have made sure of that."

"It's not about the money!"

"That's enough, Blair! I know how this industry works. It takes and takes. I've lost precious years of my life being a slave to it and I won't have you become the same. We need to spend more time with each other now."

Blair shakes her head in disbelief. This was coming from the women who had missed most of her childhood to attend to fashion shows or to work on yet another new collection.

"You can't just come here and demand me to drop everything for you! You don't have the right. You said it yourself. All those years you devoted to this company when all I wanted was your attention!"

"Blair, I know I haven't-"

"No! You don't get to make excuses! You neglected me to make your career and now that you're done with it, you want me to just go running into your arms? Well, guess what, _mom_. I'm done being your little pet project, there for you to use whenever you need me and ignore when you don't. This is me, turning my back on you!"

Blair punctuates her point by slamming the door on her way out.

xoxo

After listlessly wondering around the city, Blair finds herself in the coffeehouse she had recently visited with Arlene.

Why is it that no matter what she does, how hard she tries, she can never seem to be happy?

Every time she thinks she's a little closer to that big dream of hers, that she just needs to fix one little thing and life can finally fall into place, be perfect, it doesn't work out. It's like building a tower of cards and at the very end when all she needs is that final piece to make it all complete, the whole thing comes crashing down.

Perhaps it's because she's always reaching for something that was never really in her reach to begin with. It was never really there so she couldn't have possibly reached it. Maybe she's just chasing the impossible.

Reasons for why fate could have dealt her such a hand chase themselves in her mind. She catches a glimpse of herself in the shop window and it dawns on her.

It's her. It must be. What else could it be? Something she's doing wrong, somehow sabotaging herself. She's just… not enough. Not smart enough, not pretty enough, not capable enough of anything on her own.

She buries her face in her hands.

You'd think by now she'd be use to disappointment, but it doesn't seem to get any easier.

She's spends the next hour ordering item after item off the menu and then preceding to methodically eat it all. Despite the numerous carbohydrates she shovels in her mouth the void in her stomach seems to grow by the second.

"I've done stress eating enough to know it when I see it, but you should slow down a little," a petite blonde waitress says as she refills Blair's coffee.

"I don't need a lecture from the _help_," Blair snaps. "Why don't you stick to pouring coffee and leave the advice giving to professionals?"

Distress makes Blair fall back on old habits. She doesn't know how else to deal with it, but to lash out.

"Easy there, Park Avenue Princess. I was just _trying_ to be nice," the waitress snarks. "Geez, talk about no good deed goes unpunished. What happened? Mommy and daddy cut you off?"

First Eleanor's surprise visit and now she has to deal with minimum wage workers with more attitude than she had anticipated. She realizes somewhere in the back of her head that she's projecting her anger.

She could brush this off, or she can be a bitch.

"I can have you fired."

She decides on the later.

"I've heard worst threats from scarier people."

Blair narrows her eyes. "I don't think you realize who I am."

"No, but I'm sure you're going to enlighten me any moment now," the girl mocks.

Blair's rendered speechless at the gall of the mere slip of a waitress.

"Whoops, moment's passed. Guess I'm just going to have to stay blissfully ignorant. If you need anything else, don't ask. I'm going on my break."

If this were any other world where she wasn't Blair Waldorf she might have been impressed with the other girl's sass. Alas, in this world she _is_ Blair Waldorf and Blair Waldorf doesn't take kindly to sarcasm that is not her own.

"Hey! You listen here, Blondie, if that's your true hair color. I've had people's careers euthanized for much less. But seeing as you're merely the neighborhood coffee girl, I'm not sure how much lower on the totem pole one can get. So how about you mind your own god damn business!"

Before the blonde could mutter her witty rejoinder, their little heated interlude is interrupted by the shop manager.

"I'm sorry. Is there a problem here, miss?"

"Actually, there is. You might want to do a better job screening your waitresses, they are sorely lacking in the attitude department."

"I apologize on her behalf. Please, the food is on the house."

"I don't need your charity."

She slaps down a handful of bills that would more than cover her meal and makes her way out of the establishment just in time to hear the shop manager reprimand the offending blonde.

Usually berating staff who overstep their duties gave her some sort of shallow sense of triumph and satisfaction, but this time even _that_ is denied from her. All she feels is hollowness. Guilt adds itself to the pile of negative feelings building up in the pit of her stomach. Already she can feel the old gag reflex from old habits long past come haunting back to her. She makes her way solemnly, purposefully back to her suite. There's a reason for the saying 'old habits die hard'.

xoxo

Leave it to his stepsister to forget things like her purse at home and then demand that _he_, one of the richest people in the world and a high ranking CEO of a multi-million dollar company, to go fetch it for her because she's doesn't trust the staff. Admittedly, Serena _is_ a famous model and thus the chance of getting stalked is higher than most. He has a rare gap in his schedule usually reserved for drinks late lunches with Nate, so he grudgingly agrees.

Serena leaves him the key to the suite she and Blair are sharing. He's hesitant to use it, but he figures it's three in the afternoon so it's unlikely that Blair would be in anyhow.

He makes his way through the hallway without any problems. The purse is most likely in Serena's bedroom and as he makes his way to it he notices the bathroom light is on and what sounds to be running water. For the second time today he's exasperated with his step-sister. _'It's just like Serena to leave the light on and the water running_,' he thinks.

He makes his way to said bathroom to turn off the offending light and water when he notices an odd sound accompanying the sound of a running tap.

Retching.

He opens the door slightly to reveal a scene all too horrifyingly familiar to him. Blair crouched over sparkling white porcelain, emptying the contents of her stomach. _'This can't be happening again,'_ he thinks. It's been years since he's last known Blair to find the hollow comforts of purging. They'd made so much progress when he had first confronted her with his knowledge of her bad habit. They've moved past it, at least he had so believed.

She doesn't notice his presence and continues to retch. The sounds make his vision turn black around the edges.

"What the hell are you doing?" He can't seem to keep the anger from his tone of voice.

Blair starts at the sound of his voice. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and just stares at him.

"I said, what the hell are you doing?!" he repeats.

She's silent as she walks over the sink to wash her hands and rinse her mouth out with mouthwash. The whole process is highly rehearsed and she goes through the motions methodically and with familiarity.

"Blair!"

"It's none of your business, Bass. Just leave it alone."

She continues to wash her hands as if nothing happened. His phone rings, but he doesn't notice. He only sees her, calmly washing her hands as if she could wash away all the things that have gone wrong in their lives. He grasps her shoulder and forces her to face him. She looks pale and sick despite all her bravado and calm. It seems to only further fuel his rage.

"It _is_ my business." He snarls.

"Let go of me," she says calmly.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong! Why are you doing this again?!" he emphasizes her words by shaking her shoulders.

"I said let me go!"

Her calm breaks.

She manages to tears herself from his grasp, but the whole endeavor leaves her weak and shivering. She glares at him, looking like a feral animal cornered in a trap.

She tries to push past him to get to the door, but he blocks the way.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?!"

She refuses to look at him.

"What is it, Blair? What is it that you see in the mirror? Because it must not be what I see. You're beautiful. Why can't you understand that?! You're so fucking damn beautiful!"

Her face crumbles, tears streaming down her face which soon evolve into the gasping for air kind of sobs that pummels his heart with bruises. She hugs herself with her skinny arms and sinks to the floor, crying her heart out.

She's a mess and so is he. She doesn't stop crying, so he does what he knows best. He muffles the sobs and silences the cries with a kiss. The tears mingle with the taste of desperation and anguish.

When she doesn't push him away he deepens it. It's been so very long since he's felt her lips on his. God knows he's missed it. Apparently she has too.

Despite his effort to be comforting, all the pent up feelings of frustration seems to consume him. His anger at her leaving, his jealousy towards Carter, his fury that after all that she's put him through, they've come full circle and are back at square one. All of the emotions are translated through the movement of his lips on hers.

Their kiss is rough and raw, quickly multiplying into numerous angry kisses that are equally desperate and violent. It's the kind of kiss where it's more teeth and tongue than it is lips. He hauls her up from the floor and sets her on the countertop. She reacts by wrapping her legs around him. Her hands find themselves tangled in his hair one moment, raking his back the next. His skin is burning wherever she touches.

They somehow make it out of the bathroom and onto a bed where he suddenly finds himself way too overdressed. Apparently she's of the same opinion because she's already tugging on his shirt and he obliges her.

All the things he wants to say, he says with his body. All of the heartbreak, all of the longing, he says them all with the way he kiss her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, trailing butterfly kisses down to her navel. It's in the way his hands roam her body, working his way from her arms down to those long, long legs of hers, taking off her clothes piece by piece. If actions speak louder than words, then they haven't communicated this well in years.

Finally the last article of clothing is gone and it's just her and him. He comes up for air for a second and the reality of it all hits him. She's vulnerable and distraught and all of this could mean nothing to her when it means everything to him. Technically she's still with Carter and he's about to become her dirty little secret again and he's been through that before.

She looks up at him with eyes glazed over with prior tears and lust. She shifts forward, reaching for another kiss. He pulls away.

"Wait," he rasps.

"I don't want to wait," she replies breathlessly.

"…Are you…sure?"

It's the infamous question, the one that started everything.

"You've asked that before."

"And look where we ended up."

She closes the gap between them. She doesn't answer him. It's a signature move on her part, to distract him from the fact that she can never answer his questions. It's a signature move for a reason and so he lets it go, just like he has let it go before. He might regret it all later, but right now he lays out his heart bare and lets his body do the talking.

xoxo

She does the right thing for all the wrong reasons. She kissed Chuck back because she's vulnerable and because for some odd reason he's taken up the role of rescuing knight to her damsel in distress. It makes for an interesting foil to her previous mistake of doing the wrong thing for the right reason. She left Chuck because she loved him and didn't want to pull him down with her into the darkness of insecurities and self-loathing. However, if she was going to be honest, both actions were equally selfishly motivated on her part.

She wakes up feeling a little worse for wear. She motions to get up off the bed but is startled by his voice.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Chuck is sitting in an arm chair, looking as if he hasn't slept a wink. Even as wretched she's feeling, she can't help but notice how attractive he looks in the dim light, his hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you not slept?" she asks.

"… I couldn't sleep," he answers lamely.

He's studying her with distrustful eyes and now that the lust has a worn off, the friction comes back between them.

"So what? You decided to watch me and make sure I don't make a run for it?"

"It's not like you don't have a bad track record in that department."

"I wasn't planning on leaving. This is _my_ place, after all."

They always did 'talk' better when there wasn't actually any talking involved. He doesn't answer her and they continue to stare at each other in the dark.

"… Where's Serena anyways?" she asks, turning away. She's always the first to turn away. She occupies herself with pulling on a satin robe.

"With Nate. I sent him to go give her her purse earlier when you were asleep. Although considering that it's already ten and she had asked me to pick it up at three, I doubt it'll do her much good."

He gets up from the chair and begins to pace. It's a trademark Chuck Bass trait that she recognizes to mean he's feeling anxious.

While Blair was sleeping he had been racking his brain for what to say to her. He couldn't seem to keep a single thought straight in his head. All he knew was that just moments ago, even if everything was under the guise of impulse and desperation, they were Chuck and Blair again and it felt right. That doesn't erase the fact that she was constantly a flight risk and it doesn't erase the fact that she had royally screwed him over and he's still smarting from the blow.

She moves towards the door and instantly his mind goes flashing with red warning lights.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

"Getting up. I want to use the bathroom."

"For what? Aren't you done with sticking fingers down your throat?" he snipes.

She answers him in a glare. "Even if I am, I said it wasn't any of your business."

"Oh, so we're going to start _that_ up again are we?"

"You have no right-" she starts.

"No! _You_ have no right. You have no right to mess your life up and thereby mess _my_ life up in the process!"

"Why do you care?!"

"Because I do! Because I always fucking care!"

How easily they both fall apart. She covers her face with her hands and he goes back to pacing. They're thrown back into silence and he still can barely think clearly. Out of the dark silence he's startled by her voice.

"I'm sorry."

He turns to look at her. He doesn't need to ask about what it is she's sorry about. The list has grown quite long in length although he holds no illusions that he has been a saint in the matter.

"You're sorry?" He repeats.

"I know it's not enough, but-"

Suddenly all the things he's wanted to say comes exploding out in a rush all at once.

"No, Blair. It's not enough. I fucking proposed! This is not asking you to go to the movies or hold hands in the park. I asked you to _marry_ me and you ran away! You didn't even have the courtesy to leave a fucking letter, a note, even a stupid text. No fucking explanations whatsoever. One minute everything's great, all smiles and sun-freaking-shine and the next you pull the rug right out from under me!"

She doesn't make a sound and he continues on with his rant.

"Adding insult to injury, you move on to Carter out of all people all the while leaving me to deal with the press who were making speculations on what a fuck-up I am. And you know what? I was willing to let all of that go if you were actually happy. Instead, I find you on the bathroom room floor, trying to puke your guts out despite all that we've been through. So yeah, sorry doesn't cut it!"

This must be the hundredth time he's yelled at her and the hundredth time he's made her cry and it doesn't seem to be getting any easier this time around even if she deserves it.

"I'm…I'm sorry…Forgive me…" she chokes out.

He doesn't have anything left to say.

"I'm sorry…I-I love you."

The last part comes out in a whisper he barely catches.

The confession comes out suddenly and unplanned. The words seem to echo in the room, startling both of the occupants. It's a sudden declaration and she's as surprised as he is. It's the words she's been waiting to say to him since forever. It's the words that have been owed to him. She prays that she won't regret them as she has so many of the words she has said to him before. She hopes it's enough.

It's not.

Weren't those the words he's been waiting to hear? It was those words he had wished came from her lips the night before in that elevator. Yet, now after the haze of sex and desperation has passed, the words aren't enough to erase all of their mistakes. She still hasn't provided him with any explanation.

He shakes his head. "We both know that those three words aren't what they use to be."

And he's right. She herself has often stated how those very words are not the magical solution to everything. But it doesn't make them not true and the burden of the truth now lies on her shoulders. She knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"I get that I messed up. But don't forget that you're the one with the ultimatums." she retorts.

"And you were the one who chose to end things. You didn't need an ultimatum. You already made your choice when you packed up and left without a word."

Vulnerability makes them both defensive.

She doesn't reply, because what he said was right. She knew the outcome the moment she took her things and fled. The many moments she chose not to tell him anything and instead pretended to be the perfect high society girlfriend she hated being. She's such a bonafide mess, she's can't even manage a proper apology.

"You can say those three words and you can apologize and you can kiss me like you mean it, but you can't tell me why you left. What was it that was so bad that you had to leave? What did I do?! You can't even tell me!" He screams at her.

"It wasn't you…" she whispers.

"What?"

"It's not you. It's me—" she starts.

"If you think you can resort to clichéd bullshit-"

"It's not bullshit! You don't understand!"

"Make me understand!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?!" He might as well be screaming at the wall. "Look at me! Talk to me!" he roughly turns her around to face him. "When did you stop talking to me? Why did everything go wrong? We had everything! I would have given the world to you!"

"It wasn't enough."

"I'm not enough?"

He says it in the most devastating way that her heart shatters again and again.

"I said it wasn't you!" She answers hitting his chest, rolling her eyes in an attempt to rein back her tears.

He catches her fists.

"Don't start that whole, 'it's not you, it's me' thing again," he mocks.

"Chuck Bass, not everything in this world is about you."

"Of course it is. People just haven't realized it yet."

She laughs despite the tears still running down her face.

"Well, this time it's not. It's not about you."

"… Then what _is_ it about?"

"You asked me what was wrong. It was _me_. I'm nothing. All those big dreams of mine before, they all came to nothing and I don't know who I am anymore."

"You're Blair Waldorf," he states.

"What does that mean, Chuck? Who is Blair Waldorf? Chuck Bass's girlfriend? Serena Van der Woodsen's best friend? Eleanor Waldorf's daughter? Take away the glitz and glamour of the Waldorf name and what am I? Everything I am is based off of someone else's identity. I'm nothing on my own. I used to think that if I worked hard enough, one day I could do it. That I could have conquered anything and everything and people would actually care that I was Blair Waldorf. But it doesn't work that way. Not for me. I couldn't do it. I _can't_ do it."

"I don't need you to conquer the world. I'm fine with you the way you were."

"That's the problem, don't you see? It's not about what you want. This is for me. I can't… be in this completely dependent relationship with you. It's not good for either of us. We hurt each other too much the way we are now."

"I'm already hurting."

"It would have hurt more if I had said yes to your proposal. I can't just be your trophy wife, Chuck."

"I never asked you to be that."

"You didn't. But that doesn't change the fact that that was what I was becoming. You had Bass Industries, I had fundraisers and brunches and I was starting to hate you for it. Your future is full of potential, making important decisions, changing the world, and mine was to turn into one of those decorative women who have no purpose outside of managing their husband's lives and drinking tea."

"You have Waldorf Designs."

"But I don't. It's Eleanor's. She's back and she's planning on bequeathing the entire thing to _Jenny Humphrey_. I was passed over by my own mother for Little J. What does _that_ tell you?"

She laughs a self-deprecating laugh.

"Your mother wouldn't take this away from you."

"But it didn't really belong to me to begin with. Waldorf Designs was _her_ vision."

"And you made it prosper. You made it more than just a clothing factory."

"Apparently that's not enough. And she's right. I'm not a designer so what can I actually contribute design-wise to a fashion house? She's right. I'm not enough. _I'm_ what's wrong with this picture."

She moves to the window to stare out at the bright New York lights.

"Why couldn't you tell me this before?"

"Because I still have my pride if I don't have anything else. Imagine me crying the poor little rich girl sob story," she scoffs.

The new revelation breaks his heart more than her coming back home with Carter Baizen on her arm. He wants to reach out, take back his previous harsh words because even if she's wrong about her worth, she's right about one thing, this is about her.

"… It's late. And you haven't slept. Maybe you should go."

She always seems out of reach, moving away before he has a chance to reach out. Maybe it's a good thing because he doesn't know how.

She walks him to the door and when they reach it he still hasn't found what it is that he could say or do to reach out to her without her breaking.

She's motioning to open the door and he's still lost. Everything remains a mess and he doesn't even know where to begin to start cleaning up. She turns the door knob and it's when he realizes something. In the midst of all their angry and harsh words, all of their excuses and accusations, she said that she loved him. And he realizes he's never stopped loving her even when he thought he hated her. She's still the end game for him. The one he wants to grow old with, the one he wants forever with. If she's not content with just that, the fact still remains that she loves him.

It might not be enough to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug, and yes those words aren't what they used to be, but now that he's no longer in the dark about what she's looking for, maybe things can be different. She wants to do this on her own, but he wants to be there with her along the way. Perhaps it's time he lets go of his ultimatums and 'all or nothing' mentality. He doesn't need a wife to manage his social calendar or appease his board of directors and the press. He just needs her.

At the exact moment of his epiphany, Blair opens the door to reveal Carter Baizen standing on the other side.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales

**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T

**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**Prologue & Chapter One****  
****Chapter Two****  
****Chapter Three**  
**Chapter Four****  
****Chapter Five****  
****Chapter Six****  
****Chapter Seven**

**Chapter Eight**

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for reading my fic! If you haven't noticed, but lately I've been writing somewhat longer chapters, but updating less frequently and I'm just wondering if you guys prefer that or shorter chapters and more frequent updates? Also just note that I do try to update as fast as I can write, so please forgive me for any mistakes. Anyways, this is a pretty pivotal chapter for the story and I'm hoping to resolve everything and wrap this fic up fairly soon. I'm planning on writing a new AU fic based on what happens if Chuck Bass was a PI himself and Blair caught him moonlighting as such (inspired by something I read on Television Without Pity). Anyways, enough of my yammering. ENJOY THE CHAPTER!

**Chapter Nine**

"Carter!"

"Blair. I just heard that Eleanor was back in town and was just coming by to check up on you."

"At 10?" Chuck asks, eyebrow cocked arrogantly, mocking smirk in place.

"I was worried. And what are _you_ doing here?"

Chuck refuses to answer Carter so Blair's left to fill the silence.

"He was… just coming to pick something up for Serena. Weren't you. Bass?"

Chuck doesn't answer and continues glaring at Carter from across the door threshold. She gives Chuck a nervous glance. From the clenching of his jaw, she could tell this situation was getting ugly fast unless she does something and soon.

"Listen. Carter, I appreciate you coming over to check on me, but I'm just really tired-"

"Yes, I'm sure you must be," Chuck suggestively injects, giving her a sidelong smirk.

His mouth is arrogant, but his eyes are sober and earnest.

Carter looks about ready to start a fight and Blair is about done with all the dramatics she's had to deal with of late. Inside she's feeling a bit like a two-timing whore, but for now she's burying the sentiment deep along with the guilt that comes with it. Yet another mess that waits on tomorrow to be cleaned up.

"Like I said. _I'm tired_, so if you two could just get moving. I'll just talk to you both in the morning."

She manages to nudge Chuck out, ignoring meaningful looks that he sends her way, and shuts the door on the two glaring men. She adds cowardice to the list of things she hates about herself and once again the allure of porcelain seems ever so welcoming, but her stomach is currently empty and her throat is hoarse. She feels raw and exposed and whoever preached that talking out your issues make you feel better was obviously lying.

She sends out a mental thought to Serena, hoping that the blonde would hear it and come home soon, preferably with some more macaroons.

In the back of her mind she mourns the waste of such delicacies that would eventually end up being flushed down a toilet once she was through with them. The macaroons, however, take second place to the mourning of her shambles of a life.

xoxo

Chuck hates the man standing his opposite. He's sure the feeling is shared by his companion.

So much for past camaraderie and bonding over expensive whiskey shots. It's sort of sad that they've lost their friendship by the means of time, distance and vastly different and similar philosophies on life. It's like the battle between the Muslims and the Christians over the city of Jerusalem. Both sides are so similar yet so different, all fighting for essentially the same thing.

Blair Waldorf's constant self sabotage and general aversion to any form of lasting happiness doesn't help matters.

Love triangles are always so messy.

"'Picking something up for Serena'? That's a weak excuse. I thought you were better than that, Bass."

"Yeah and 'I was worried' was pure genius."

"I'm her boyfriend!" Carter snaps.

"You sure say that a lot, but I have yet to hear Blair mouth any of the same sentiments towards you," Chuck points out.

The words hits a little too close to home for comfort, but Carter doesn't show it.

"That's because I keep her mouth occupied with more important matters. I suggest you back off if you know what's good for you."

"I've had enough of your overcompensating macho-man act. If you would excuse me, I have business to attend to, unlike some people."

Chuck gives Carter a final glower before he turns around and makes his way down the hallway.

"You better watch yourself, Bass. You forget who you're dealing with!" Carter calls out after him.

Chuck raises an arm in mock salute as he walks away, already too busy scanning through the plethora of missed calls and messages on his blackberry.

xoxo

Chuck somehow manages to arrive home without murdering Carter. He flips on the light to reveal a petite blonde in a waitress uniform lounging on his sofa.

It's a familiar sight that he has grown accustomed to ever since he woke up and found Blair's side of the bed was empty so many years ago.

"You're late," the girl states petulantly.

He doesn't answer and instead busy himself with removing his coat and hanging it up so it wouldn't wrinkle.

"And your bitchy ex-girlfriend got me fired from my day job," the girl continues.

He furrows his brows and rubs his temples.

"Maybe you're losing your touch. I thought by now you knew how to be more discrete. What were you thinking, approaching her?"

"She showed up unexpectedly. I was winging it. Besides, I thought you would have appreciated that I got you info when I was supposedly off duty," the blonde sneers.

"Arlene will wire a bonus with your regular payment."

That earns him a self satisfied smile from the girl.

"So what do you have on Eleanor's early return from retirement?"

"Didn't you read my text?"

He recalls his phone vibrating with new messages earlier today, but he was too preoccupied with the whole Blair episode that he hadn't bothered to check.

"I was… busy."

The waitress rolls her eyes.

"I'm sure you were. Park Avenue Princess had left in a bit of a huff, did you manage to swoop in on time and be her knight in shining armor?" she mocks.

The girl was his best PI. It was her who finally found Blair in the lonely French countryside when no else could. So, he let's the girl's competence overshadow her habit of running her mouth, among other annoying little quirks.

"I pay you to give me information on the Waldorfs, not to make commentary. So either give me your report or get the hell out."

"Well, _somebody's_ in a sour mood tonight."

Chuck answers her with an impatient glare.

"I did some digging around Eleanor's phone records. She's been getting some interesting phone calls."

"Go on."

"Particularly calls from a certain freelance photographer. Does the name Carter Baizen ring any bells?"

Of course. It's always Carter.

"And? Say that he _has_ been talking to Eleanor, that itself isn't a crime. Maybe he's been trying to win Blair over by getting on the old bat's good side. God knows I've tried."

"True. But, this is Carter Baizen. He has sneakier motives than trying to please Mama Waldorf. Strange how suddenly Eleanor decided Blair can't handle the task of managing Waldorf Designs around the same time."

"So he convinces Eleanor that Blair's not up for the job, Eleanor swoops in and removes Blair from her duties. How does stripping Blair of the Waldorf inheritance benefit him?"

"Eleanor already ordered two one-way tickets back to France. She's also hired some movers, which is odd if you consider that Eleanor only came back with a luggage or two. I have a feeling that once Eleanor leaves, she's not planning on going back alone."

"So this is how Carter's trying to get Blair to go back to Europe. But he knows Blair's issues with her mother, this is… extreme. He wouldn't go so far."

"'Just her. However I can have her' Isn't that what he told you at the bar? It doesn't help that you two keep on eying each other longingly all the time either. The guy must be super anxious to get you two as far apart as possible."

"You were eavesdropping on our conversation? I didn't hire you for that night."

"I was just being thorough! You did tell me to keep tabs on Carter as well as Blair."

Chuck scans his blackberry calendar.

"This is all still speculation. Tomorrow night is the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute Gala. Waldorf Designs is a sponsor. Eleanor might have told Blair of her intentions to hand the company over to Jenny Humphrey, but I doubt she's planning on going public any time soon. Since Blair's take over of the company, their stocks have quadrupled. It would be stupid to stir up the shareholders right now. If Eleanor is not stupid, which I highly doubt, then Blair's bound to attend to keep up appearances. And if she is, you can expect Carter to be in tow."

"So what now?"

"Seeing as Blair got you fired from the coffeehouse, I'm guessing you need a new day job?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about catering? It'll be easier to be a fly on the wall that way and you can try and gather more info on Carter. Just remember our agreement about your little… extracurricular activities."

Chuck sends the lounging blonde a meaningful look, she returns it annoyed sigh. They've been through all this many times before.

"Depends… how much is the wage?"

"Three times the usual. That should cover it don't you think?"

"Splendidly," the petite girl quips, pushing herself off the sofa and sauntering over to the door. "Who knew Chuck Bass would ever go to such lengths for a girl? I almost hope it does work out, after all once it does, who's going to keep paying me such pretty sums of money?"

"If you mess this up then I swear-"

"Oh relax, Bass. You're still my number one customer and I'm serious about providing good customer service."

The blonde pauses for a reply, but it doesn't come.

"Wow. A year ago you would've replied with some dirty remark about servicing in the bedroom arena. B really did a number on you. You have to give the girl kudos. She knows how to work it like the best of em, leaving broken little rich boys along the way."

With that the girl makes her way out the door and shuts it behind her.

"You have no fucking idea."

xoxo

The gala goes on as planned. Chuck arrives dressed immaculately in Armani. He spots Blair in a Waldorf original, posing for the cameras and he wonders what it took for her to pull on that smile and that dress. Just as he predicted, Carters not far off. He looks around and spots his little PI making her rounds with glasses of champagne for the guests. He hopes this will prove to be a productive night.

Eleanor is all smiles the entire evening despite her numerous passive aggressive attempts at persuading Blair to "see reason."

Eleanor has always been the sun to Blair's wax wings and despite the tragic ending that she knows is inevitable, she never fails to fly too close.

"Do you know how many people out there wishes they were in your position? You don't need to work, you're set! You don't need this. I told you that your father and I-"

"I _do_ need this! I need this more than anything! Why can't you understand?!"

"Stop this foolishness! You're coming back to France with me whether you like it or not. I've already booked the flight. In a week's time, I will be announcing the new head of Waldorf Designs to be Jenny Humphrey. I hope we can do this with more civility."

"I'm never going to forgive you for this."

"You'll realize one day that I'm doing this for your own good."

At this point Blair wonders if maybe it's time to let foolish dreams go. Let her mother have her way (again). After all, it's like what they say in France, 'Les temps sont durs pour les rêveurs (Times are hard for dreamers.)'*

xoxo

Chuck has difficulty approaching Blair the entire evening. All night he's bombarded by men in suits trying to pitch new ideas or inquiring about the new project he was working on. He's polite, if not impatient. Despite his best efforts to evade them, he can't seem to get a single moment alone.

He catches the scene between Blair and her mother whispering urgently in a secluded alcove by photographs no one apparently cares to see. He makes a move towards them, but is blocked once again by yet another business partner.

Just when he's starting thinking it's all getting a little too ridiculous his eyes lock with a pair of mischievous blue ones attached to the one and only Carter Baizen. The evening events start to click into place.

Carter raises his glass of champagne in an arrogant salute accompanied by a famous Baizen smirk.

xoxo

She finds herself hiding behind the curtain that blocks off the catering staff area from the guests, staring into empty hands that mimic empty stomachs and empty hearts. Carter startles her when he appears with a plate of food in one hand and a whole bottle of champagne in the other.

"Knock knock."

She looks up at him and feels the pangs of guilt over what happened with Chuck the day before start to crawl their way to the surface from wherever she buried them.

"Carter. I… need to tell you something. The other day with Chuck-"

"Forget it. Whatever you've done… I don't care. What matters is that we're both here. Together. As long as you can promise me… whatever happens… we're going to stay the way we are."

"Carter…"

"Here," he thrusts the plate of food at her. "Let's get some food into you first. We can talk after," he settles down on the floor besides her upturned crate despite the expensive suit he's wearing. It's these little moments that make Blair realize Carter's not just a Chuck replacement.

"Thank you… I'm a mess right now, and you're being really sweet. I don't deserve it."

"What you _deserve_ is the best this pathetic world can offer. So here's the best I could find."

He hands her a bottle of expensive wine and she grants him a small brief smile before going back to rearranging the food on her plate.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Do I look ok?"

"You always look fucking gorgeous so I can never tell what you're feeling on the inside."

She abandons the plate of food on the floor besides her and instead takes up the bottle of expensive wine Carter swiped. She's thankful for something stronger than the champagne she's been sipping on all evening.

"What's with all the compliments tonight?"

"I need a reason to compliment you?"

"No, but it's highly suspicious."

He answers with a dramatic hand to heart as if she's just struck him there. She laughs for the first time tonight.

"What you must think of me!" he exclaims, feigning hurt.

"I think you are Carter Baizen and you're always up to no good."

His face goes serious for a split second, but she think it's just trick lighting.

"Talk to me. Tell me how you're doing. Dealing with Eleanor and all that."

She's silent for a while, but he won't stop pestering her until she gives him what he wants.

"What am I suppose to do? My mother just decided to give away my livelihood to a complete outsider. The Waldorf _legacy_!"

She keeps her tone mildly sarcastic, but the hurt shows through. "

I'm not begrudging Jenny of the promotion she obviously deserves, but why is it that I'm getting axed for working my ass off? I don't even understand why she's doing this. It makes no logical sense. But she's Eleanor and this is _her_ company."

They're both silent for awhile because those are the undeniable facts. It's Eleanor's company and she could do whatever the hell she wants with it.

"In a week, I will be... nothing. Just another idle rich girl living off mommy and daddy."

She takes yet another heavy swig of the bottle.

"Well… I don't know about that. You _did_ earn that ridiculously high wage of yours managing Waldorf Designs according to the jump in stock prices since you took over operations. So I think you have a right to go on living fabulously on that hard earned money once you leave."

He's smiling and so she smiles back, albeit a little drunkenly. The wine is stronger than she had anticipated.

"You know what? You should do just do what Eleanor says."

She thinks her hearing is going.

"Excuse me?"

"Eleanor wants you out, so what? Waldorf Designs was failing company before you took over and if she wants to return it to its former glory of being a washed up discount brand, then so be it. You should just quit."

"Quit," she repeats.

"Yes! Beat her to the punch. If she's going to force you out sooner or later, you might as well do it on your terms."

At this point she's feeling a little more than buzzed from the alcohol, but everything Carter is saying doesn't seem so absurd at this point.

"You might just be right. What the hell else am I suppose to do? I'm not going to wait for her to kick me out after all I've done for her. I'm going to quit!"

She finishes the last of the wine.

"And I'm going to do it _right_ now."

Blair slaps the bottle down with a resounding thud as she gets up and marches out to the crowd of Upper East Siders and the numerous reporters covering the gala event.

She takes the stage with more poise than the alcohol running in her system should allow and in complete and utter calm she smiles at the cameras and the inquisitive faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I apologize for disrupting your evening, but I have an announcement to make," she waits for people to turn their attention to her. "As most of you know, I am Blair Waldorf of Waldorf Designs who are sponsoring this event tonight."

She smothers a hiccup and continues to smile serenely at the curious guests.

"As you all know, Waldorf Deigns had hit a rough patch a few years past. But the company had persevered and is now one of the hottest fashion lines in New York. I mean, just look at this season's collection! It's amazing isn't it?"

The crowd answers in applause. She waits for the clapping to die down before she continues.

"But it's funny. All of these pretty clothes with the Waldorf name sewn on their tags," she fails to conceal a hiccup and her veil of stability is slipping off, but she continues on. "Why does it say Waldorf when apparently the name doesn't mean a fucking thing?"

The crowd now looks perplexed and mutters amongst themselves.

"I mean! My mother's already drawn up papers to hand down the company to Jennifer Humphrey! So shouldn't the name be changed to Humphrey Designs?!"

The audience is shocked and the media lose no time in gathering up their cameras and recorders to memorialize Blair's outburst.

"Because, apparently I'm not good enough for the Waldorfs! I mean, sure I raised the company's sales the most it ever had in all of its history, but what does that matter? I can't sew a button for the life of me!"

Chuck tries to make his way through the throng of stunned guests and frantic press to reach Blair, but he can't seem to make it through.

"And you know what?! I no longer want to be a part of it!"

She stumbles a little, but quickly rights herself once more. She composes herself and stands a little straighter.

"As of right now, I officially resign from my position as Creative Director and COO," she says this with utter calm and sincerity.

She catches her mother's eye in the sea of hysterics.

"Blair Waldorf is no longer part of Waldorf Designs," her voice shakes from both alcohol and the sob in her throat, but she swallows and a new sternness enters her tone. "Personally _or_ professionally."

With that, Blair officially cut ties with Waldorf Designs and her mother amidst the flashing lights of the paparazzi and stunned guests.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful

**Author:** fading_tales

**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.

**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T

**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**Prologue & Chapter One****  
****Chapter Two****  
****Chapter Three**  
**Chapter Four****  
****Chapter Five****  
****Chapter Six****  
****Chapter Seven**

**Chapter Eight**

**Chapter Nine**

**A/N: **No Blair/Chuck interaction in this one, SORRY! _ I need to get some plot points out of the way first, but this chapter does feature the ever amazing Eric Van der Woodsen as per requested by **mys2pepero**. I hope I did him justice and sorry it took so long for me to get Eric in the story, but I wanted him to play a part in the actual plot instead of just being there to pep talk somebody. Anyways, to all the readers, THANK YOU AND ENJOY! 3

**Chapter Ten**

Blair stumbles into one of the waitresses in her attempts to grab her things and make a quick exit. This results in knocking over a tray full of hors d'oeuvres, as well as spilling the contents of both girls' purses all over the floor in the process.

"I'm sorry!" She blurts out, hastily gathering up her spilled belongings.

She stops short when she looks up into the familiar blonde face.

"You!"

"Why isn't it Park Avenue Princess."

"Why-"

Before Blair can interrogate coffee shop blondie, she finds her mother spinning her around.

"Blair! What the hell were you thinking?"

She tears her arm away from Eleanor's grasp.

"What I was thinking? I was thinking that I would beat you to the punch. Rather than wait for you to dismiss me, I thought I might as well save you the trouble and quit!"

"I don't know why you must keep fighting with me! I am trying to help you! I can see already that New York and its influences have already clouded your judgment. And look at you! You smell like a winery! You're a complete wreck, Blair."

"I'm a wreck only because _you're_ my mother. I was doing fine without you!"

"Denial has always been your answer to everything wasn't it? Never admitting you need help. This whole hysterical episode of yours only proves to me that Carter was more than right about your need to get away from this place."

Confusion hits her like a ton of bricks.

"What? You've been talking to Carter?"

"Yes and thank god I have! Otherwise I wouldn't know anything about what's been going on with you. If I had known what a frantic state you were in I would have came sooner! You keep saying you need this company and work and yet you have no idea what a mess you really are! I'm just trying to help you, Blair. You just can't handle it all."

The jigsaw puzzle starts to come together despite her heavily intoxicated mind. She feels nauseated and not just because of the alcohol burning at the back of her throat.

"I… I can't believe this…"

It was Carter. She always has to choose the bad boys whose best skills are those in manipulation and betrayal. She shouldn't be surprised.

"You can believe whatever you want. You've already caused a scene with the press. Don't add fuel to the flames with any more of your juvenile behavior. And you wonder why I won't hand over the company."

Waldorf women are always known to say things they don't mean in the heat of the battle. Too bad many of those things can't be taken back.

"Oh, don't you worry about me. Like I said, I have nothing more to do with you or your precious company. I'm done!"

She stuffs her remaining strewn possessions into her purse and makes her way as far away from her mother as she possibly can. Carter finds her before she can accomplish the task.

It's like out of the fire and into the frying pan. The alcohol in her blood stream only increases her irritation.

"Blair! There you are!"

He has on a congratulatory smile that she wants to slap off. This whole fiasco was probably part of his scheming.

"I don't want to speak to you!"

He's startled by her sudden hostility.

"What's going on? Did your mother find you? Did she upset you?"

"You know who upset me, Carter? YOU! Guess who I found out has been making covert phone calls to Eleanor."

His previous appearance of jubilation is replaced with quiet sort of stunned horror that she feels a slight triumph in producing. That small victory is not enough to override the veil of red that shrouds her eyes.

"Who do you think you are? You had no right! What kind of things are you telling her? You know how she is and how I feel about her! How I felt about the company!"

He has guilt written all over his face.

"Blair, just hold on. I can explain everything."

"Enough! I don't want to hear your excuses. I'm done with all of this. And I'm done with you. Good-bye, Carter."

Just minutes ago she was thinking how he was different from Chuck. How maybe he's the one that understands her best. She storms out of the event, pushing her way through guests and the crowd of reporters trying to find out more about why she had suddenly resigned from Waldorf Designs.

"Blair, please. Wait. Let me explain!" Carter pleas.

Blair doesn't stop. She doesn't want to hear the excuses and the explanations. If she does, knowing his glib tongue, he might just somehow convince her to forgive him and she just can't do that right now.

"Blair! Stop! Please!"

He reaches for her arm, but she wretches it away.

"I cared about you. I really did. You weren't just a rebound, you know. I thought you understood me. There was a time when you made me happy. God, I was so stupid. You even managed to convince me to feel guilty about Chuck."

She hugs herself from the cold, but it doesn't help.

"Blair, I'm sorry. I made a mistake. We've both had our shares of mistakes. Please. We can be happy again. Let's go back to Paris. Away from all of this," he says, gesturing at city in general.

"You know what? I was sorry, too. Sorry that I ever believed in you. You played me and I trusted you, Carter. You can't do what you did and then expect me to go running into your arms. Don't be so naïve," she states, her words matching the freezing temperature.

She leaves him, standing there out in the New York cold and doesn't ever look back.

xoxo

Chuck watches as the entire event goes up in flames. People all around are buzzing about the scene Blair Waldorf just caused and speculating on the future for Waldorf Designs now without its figurehead.

"Hey! You won't believe what I just witnessed."

He turns around to answer the tap on his shoulder and comes face to face with his hired eyes.

"If you're talking about Blair's little speech, I think we've all seen it."

"You saw the show, but I got backstage pass. Eleanor just confirmed our theory on Carter and better yet, she's spilled the beans to Blair. The two came to blows just minutes ago."

"What? Where is she now?"

"Princess left. You can try catching up to her, but I don't think you can do anything about it. Better to give her some time to cool down."

Despite his first instinct to chase after her, be the knight in shining armor he never really managed to be, Chuck acknowledges the fact that this is not the time for selfish grand gestures. He'd only be a burden to her now, more baggage to bear on her small shoulders.

"What about Carter?"

She nods in the direction of the front entrance and Chuck doesn't need telling twice to know where he's headed.

xoxo

He finds Carter sitting on the curb, hands clenched in fists and eyes staring out blankly.

"You look pathetic," Chuck calls out.

"…What do you want?"

"I want to know what kind of drugs you're on that would make you think that calling Eleanor was a good idea."

"Leave me alone, Bass. I'm not in the mood."

"Well, too bad because I am. You went to far this time and it backfired."

"It's not over."

"Yes. It is."

"It's NOT FUCKING OVER!"

Carter's on his feet and whips around to face his adversary, grabbing onto the lapels of Chuck's Armani jacket. Chuck stands his ground, clenching his jaw.

"You underestimate how far I am willing to go."

"I don't think you are in any position to threaten me right now," Chuck spits out as he forcibly removes Carter's hands from his jacket front.

Carter laughs.

"You forget that I have nothing left to lose. There's only uphill from here. The question shouldn't be what _I'm_ going to do. It's what _you're_ going to do," he punctuates his point with a push. "You think I don't know about your little PIs? Keeping tabs on Blair? She's never one who enjoyed being _stalked_," again another shove.

"Are you trying to compare what _I_ did with what _you_ did?" Chuck sneers. "You're highly delusional if you think Blair would even blink an eye about what I've done now that she's figured out that you played her," he answers the shoves with those of his own.

The insults continue to be exchanged. Push comes to shove and turns into punches. It's amazing that they don't attract any attention from the reporters or guests a mere 20 feet away, but they fight quietly, awkwardly, desperately. They take the blows and dealt out their own.

Soon the both of them are too tired to lift up their arms and too hurt to get up off the floor. It's a little too soon for physical altercations when both of their previous bruises have yet to heal. They lie there on the cold, dirty New York pavement, just breathing.

"… It's… not over…" Carter whispers in between deep breaths.

Chuck doesn't correct him this time because he knows how it feels to be so desperate to want something to last forever.

xoxo

It's 10am in the morning and she's sitting at a bar, ordering drinks that aren't appropriate for breakfast. While downing gin martinis rather than mimosas, she reads the various news articles on her public resignation the night before. She idly rubs at the migraine that doesn't go away when a shadow creeps over the paper she's currently reading.

"A little early for the drink, don't you think?"

She looks up to see a dapperly dressed Zac Posen smiling serenely at her.

"What do you want, Zac?" she sighs, folding away the paper that featured her latest humiliation.

"So, I heard about your resignation with Waldorf Designs."

"Well, it isn't exactly a secret, now is it?" she snarks. "What about it? Came to gloat?"

"On the contrary. We might have been enemies when you were part of Waldorf Designs, but now you're a free agent."

Zac pauses for dramatic effect and Blair answers with the quirk of a perfect eyebrow.

"I want to offer you a job."

"Zac, I think maybe I'm not the only one drinking early in the morning."

"Blair Waldorf, your mother may not realize the potential of your business acumen, but I do. What do you say about becoming my Chief Creative Director?"

Blair stared at her long time frienemy in disbelief.

"Are you… serious?"

"Oh come now, you know I don't joke. Not about business."

She stares into the face of her once rival and sees the sincerity. It only makes her all the more stunned.

"… I'll… think about it."

"You do that. You know my number."

The next day provides a whole stream of unexpected surprises. Tory Burch approaches her at lunch with a proposition for Brand Manager and Marie Claire offers her a job heading their marketing department. New job options throw their doors wide open and Blair feels like she's just stepped through the wardrobe and into some fantastical fashionable career paradise. It's enough for her to tolerate the piles of news on Waldorf Designs big stock dip. It's not at all what she expected given her less than graceful exit at the gala event, but she doesn't question it.

"So… what are you going to do?" Serena asks one night while they bonded over yet another box of French macaroons.

Serena's heard from Chuck about Blair's lapse and has been keeping an eye on her, but she didn't have to. Blair hasn't felt the need to purge since Posen's surprising proposition and the streams of job offers that followed.

"I don't know…"

"What do you _want_ to do?"

"… I don't know!" she squeals, burying her face into her silk pillow. "I mean. I'm totally overwhelmed. I never expected this sort of reaction."

"It's great! You basically have your pick of where to work!"

"I know… and I'm totally floored that they'd even want me…"

"Why do I feel a 'but' coming? This is fabulous!"

"Yeah…_but_…"

Serena rolls her eyes.

"But what?"

"… It doesn't feel right. When I was with Waldorf Designs, I felt like I was contributing to a legacy. Like I was part of some greater plan. It wasn't just about _me_ succeeding. It was about the Waldorf name being etched into fashion history. These other jobs, great as they are, feel… shallow in comparison."

"Then start your own company! A new fashion line that will blow Waldorf Designs out of the water! It's not like you don't have the capital."

"You're forgetting that I'm not a designer. Remember? One of the reasons Eleanor wanted to axe me."

"But you do have a great sense of style. And! And a knack for what's going to sell or be popular."

"Much good that skill's done for me," Blair mocks.

"Hey! When you took over, you turned Waldorf Designs into the crumbling bargain bin clothing line it was becoming into one of the hottest couture fashion house in New York. Stop selling yourself short! And you know what? Since you're leaving Waldorfs, then so am I!"

"You have a contract!"

"Well then they can talk to my lawyers!"

Blair raises her eyebrows at Serena's boldness.

"But seriously, B. Do something you want this time. Something new! This is all about you."

All about her. The first time in Blair's life, she's completely free of anything holding her down. The thought is both daunting and exhilarating.

She turns back to the cookies and spends the rest of the night mulling over what it is exactly that _she_ wants.

xoxo

After thinking long and hard about the many offers she received, Blair decided on one thing. She was NOT going to work under Zac Posen. Whether she's affiliated with Waldorf Designs or not, she could not stand the man. Any job that required her to yield to him or endure his annoying presence was not going to work.

She goes looking for her long missed cellphone in the oversized evening clutch she used at the gala event two nights prior. Her fingers meet the familiar feel of plastic and she takes out the phone triumphantly. It would have been annoying to have to hunt down Zac's number in the old fashioned address book.

When she turns on the phone she's puzzled by the photo of kittens serving as a background. Opening up the address book application, she doesn't find the familiar contacts that she would in her own phone.

She quickly realizes she must have switched phones when she had collided with the blonde waitress earlier that night. The memory arouses her curiosity since she never did get a chance to interrogate the girl. Mischief in mind, Blair decides to do a bit of snooping while the phone was in her possession.

"I'm just going to look for a number that will put me in contact with the girl. Poor thing might not even know her phone is missing," Blair tells herself.

Text messages and emails are intuitively the best place to start.

Blair is startled to find that the phone in question has a completely full inbox. She's further perplexed to find that opening the texts reveal them to be gossip blasts and other forms of UES rumors and scandals. What truly floors Blair is that aside from the gossip tips, she finds various emails from Chuck with herself as the subject.

Interest truly piqued, Blair becomes determined to figure out who exactly this deceptively simple waitress really is.

xoxo

Eric comes home from LA on Monday and Serena delegates the task of entertaining her brother to Blair.

"It'll take your mind off of things. Besides, you guys haven't seen each other in ages! It'll be a great opportunity to catch up."

So with that in mind, Blair arranges to meet the younger Van der Woodsen for lunch.

"Blair, it's so good to see you," Eric greets with a hug.

"Nice to see you too, Eric," Blair returns.

"I hope you don't mind me bringing a guest to join us for lunch. This is my friend Cindy. She's from California."

Blair wrinkles her nose at the surprise guest, but nevertheless extends her hand for handshake.

"It's nice to meet with you, Cindy."

After introductions, Blair calls a waiter to bring over another chair and place setting. The three of them are soon seated and food ordered.

Although she appreciates the chance to see Eric, she's annoyed by the fact that their reunion is marred by the unexpected guest. Eric, sensing her veiled annoyance, attempts breaks the ice by revealing his new friend's field on electronic and digital print media.

"You're in an interesting field. What is it that you're trying to do?" Blair politely inquires.

"My current project deals with the current trend of electronic readers in the publishing industry. I developed an ultra thin, fully colored, touch-screen electronic reader that utilizes the latest technology of electronic paper display. I'm hoping that it'll appeal to the magazine market with the new color applications and size. Imagine glossy digital pages. It's not only going green, but also cuts costs in the long run."

"Sounds… profitable."

Blair's annoyance gives way to interest on a prospective new market. After all, didn't Serena tell her to find something new and interesting?

"It would be. Problem is I don't have enough capital or interested investors to launch the project for mass production. Besides, what I need is some popular content to spearhead whole thing and to appeal to the wealthy masses. I was hoping Eric could help me out."

"Sorry, Cindy. Bass Industries is in the real estate business."

Blair smells opportunity in the air and jumps on it.

"They are… but I'm not. Perhaps we can discuss further about this little business venture of yours another time in private? Here's my card. I'm recently in the possession of some capital, maybe I'm just the investor you need."

The girl is more than happy to take up Blair's offer and before the lunch ends they've scheduled an appointment to meet up.

As Eric's friend takes her leave, Eric turns to Blair with a wistful smile.

"What?" Blair asks.

"You look good. Happier than I thought you would be. I wasn't expecting it from what I've been hearing."

"And _who_ have you been hearing from?"

Eric fakes momentary ignorance when they both know who exactly been talking about her affairs.

"Lunch time's almost over. You better hurry back to the office before Chuck starts deducting your pay."

Eric smiles indulgently.

"Of course if he ever gives you trouble, just dramatically quit during a public event like I did."

"A Blair that can make jokes about herself…how long have I been gone?"

"Too long," she states with a grin on her face. "The time for sitting around is about to come to a stop. I can't be unemployed forever, Blair Waldorf doesn't do socialite. And thanks to your little friend, I might just have an idea of what I _am_ going to do."

"So you're NOT annoyed anymore?"

She answers by ruffling up his hair.

"You're lucky you brought an interesting guest. If it was your dud of a boyfriend I wouldn't be so nice."

"I thought you would like her."

"Well, that remains to be seen, but so far I like her ideas."

The week, despite her current status as unemployed, proves to be one of the busiest weeks she ever had. Between juggling new career prospects, digging up dirt on the mysterious waitress and her connection to Chuck, as well as avoiding both Carter and her mother, Blair's all about tuckered out.

She gets into her taxi cab and waves good-bye the Eric. Once the taxi has gone out of sight, the young Van der Woodsen pulls out his phone and speed-dials 1.

"Bass Industries, this is Arlene speaking. How may I help you?"

"Arlene, this is Eric. Can you tell Chuck I did what he asked? Also, let him know I'll report back to the office tomorrow morning."

Arlene answers in an affirmative and the young Van der Woodsen clicks his phone shut with a smile on his face. He always did have a scheming streak in him that his stepbrother had recognized and cultivated.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful  
**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.  
**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**Prologue & Chapter One****  
****Chapter Two****  
****Chapter Three**  
**Chapter Four****  
****Chapter Five****  
****Chapter Six****  
****Chapter Seven**  
**Chapter Eight****  
****Chapter Nine****  
****Chapter Ten**

**Chapter Eleven**

The next week becomes a tumultuous time in Blair Waldorf's life. Her meeting with Eric's inventor friend proves enterprising and becomes the first of many follow up meetings. She's excited about something for once and the plans for a publishing company begin playing in her head. All they need now is some material to publish. She considers contacting Dan Humphrey, but she's been sick of Humphreys as of late, not that she blames Jenny for anything that had happened. Besides, she recalls Dan's writing and cringes. Judgmental, literary snobbery isn't the kind of writing she's looking for.

Her thoughts are interrupted when her replacement cellphone rings and the caller ID reads the one and only Dorota. It's a last resort when she has to call her old maid and confidante out of early retirement.

She asks Dorota to do some reconnaissance on the elusive waitress while she goes to yet another meeting with Cindy to finalize some contracts on their business partnership.

Blair comes home to find Carter Baizen, looking like a lost boy, waiting on her doorstep.

"What is it that you want?" she bites out.

It's been two weeks, but not enough time for her to get over his manipulation.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well so am I."

"I have a gift for you."

"I don't want anything from you."

She attempts to push past him to get to her door, but he blocks her.

"Please, just hear me out," he whispers.

He's being uncommonly vulnerable and so the little kink in her armor allows her to take a step back. Let him say what he came to say. She could always shut the door in his face later.

"What is it then?"

He wordless hands her a stack of papers.

"What's this?"

When he said he had a gift for her she had expected flowers, candy, maybe even some pretty, expensive jewelry. Paper wasn't on the list.

"It's a deed."

"A deed," she repeats.

"To Waldorf Designs."

She stares back at him dumbstruck. Memories of past newspaper headlines and articles on declining stocks and unhappy shareholders run through her mind.

"… You… you bought out the Waldorf shares."

"Yeah."

She stares at the stack of papers in her hands and then back at him.

"Why would you do that? A company isn't like a convertible, Carter. How could you have had the money to do that? "

"It was part of the plan. Once Eleanor came back, I knew that sooner or later she would force you to leave the company. Once you did, as I had expected, the share prices would drop and they did. Enough for me to cash out my trust fund and buy it."

It's one of those scarce few times in Blair Waldorf's life in which she has absolutely nothing to say.

"I did it for _you_," he emphasizes. "Don't you see? I did it all for you!"

Of all the grandest romantic gestures in the world, this has got to rank high in the biggest and the most convoluted.

He's the firefighter that starts fires in order to put them out. Those kinds of ploys never end well, and she wonders what could have possessed him to take such measures.

He searches her eyes for any indication that his desperate attempt at winning her over was working. That's the thing about loving Blair Waldorf. Once you do, you can't remember how it felt before you loved her and you don't want to remember or feel that way ever again. He's staking it all in this one final act of grandeur.

"I just wanted to be the one to save you. I wanted it to be me this time, not _him_. I wanted you to choose _me_."

He never was a good gambler.

"I didn't want you to save me. I wanted to save myself. I can't take this. I don't want it."

She hands back the papers.

"Blair-"

"This was a stupid thing that you did. This wasn't what I wanted. I'm sorry you thought this was what you needed to do. I'm sorry that I even involved you in this huge mess that is my life."

"I chose to be in it. I want to be with you."

"… I'm sorry. I… I don't feel the same way. I can't look at you the same way anymore. We're not good people, you and I. I'm not ignorant of our faults, our tendencies to manipulate and hurt. I just forgot how good you were at it."

"I was wrong. I made a mistake. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You did. So I'm sorry, but what you did isn't something I can just sleep off."

She shakes her head at him and he knows that this is it. It's the end of the line for Carter and Blair.

"So that's it then?"

"We can still be friends," she replies lamely.

He scoffs at the notion.

"You were never going to pick me, were you? Even if I never called Eleanor, you weren't going to pick me over him."

He prays that she would contradict him. For once, he wishes Blair Waldorf would prove to be the argumentative, contrary creature he knows she is.

"…Yes, I would've picked him if I could."

He doesn't know how his heart manages to keep on breaking and yet he's still standing there in front of her, pulse still beating.

"But I'm not picking him. I'm not picking anyone. So it doesn't matter."

Somehow her addendum doesn't make him feel any better.

"In another world, in another life, we'd all be actors reading off of scripts and I'd be the one you came home to once the director yells cut. You two won't work out, this is the real world. You'll just end up hurting each other. It should have been me."

"Maybe it should've… but it isn't. Good-bye, Carter. I wish you well."

She presses a kiss on his cheek and finds her lips wet and salty. She doesn't look back when she steps past him. It's the second time she's walked away from him and doesn't look back. It's also the last.

Deep inside her heart she mourns what he could've been, what _they_ could've been had they been different people like he said. But she doesn't regret anymore and she closes the door firmly behind her. She hopes that whatever happens, he'll find his peace somewhere.

xoxo

Dorota proves to be as reliable as ever and a leather dossier full of potential answers awaits her among the pile of mail. She reads the notes left by her adoring old friend with a bittersweet smile.

She hugs the leather to her chest, imagining that the older woman was there with her now. Chuck Bass was an orphan because his parents were no longer alive. Blair Waldorf was an orphan because her parents no longer cared. Dorota had been the only constant caring adult figure in Blair's life among a stream of disappointments. Cyrus had come close, but that was short-lived.

She tears herself away from reminiscing and clears her head for the task at hand. She had a blonde working class bitch with an agenda to find, an empire to build and so little time to do it all. With tentative hands, Blair opens up the dossier and makes quick work of the contents.

xoxo

She makes a trip to his office after perusing Dorota's report. To her disappointment the dossier held mostly information she already knew. This mission was becoming harder than she had initially expected. Exasperated by the round about way of collecting information, Blair decides to go directly to the source.

Arlene was neither surprised nor ruffled to see her. The older woman merely said that Chuck Bass was currently in a meeting and that he would be finished shortly if she wanted to wait.

"We both know that I'm not going to wait for him to finish his little meeting."

"Yes, but I thought I should at least look like I tried to stop you. Liability and all that."

Blair shares a smirk with the older woman.

"Whatever it is you end up doing, I'm definitely not the one to tell you that he's in the oak conference room down the hall and to your right."

Blair thanks and says good-bye to Arlene, quickly making her way to the conference room where a certain Basstard was currently located.

She bursts through the door while he was in mid-sentence, shocking men in suits who stared at her intrusion.

"Gentleman, if I could just a moment alone with Ms. Waldorf, please."

The room is soon cleared out, leaving the two ex-lovers in complete privacy.

"Blair. Wonderful as it is to see you… I was in the middle of an important meeting with my staff."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much, Bass. If anything, you know how to hire and train obedient monkeys. I'm sure they're all thanking me for sparing them one of your condescending lectures. I on the other hand, need a word with you."

"My, my. You sure are anxious to see me," he begins with a smirk. "And as flattered as I am that you seem suddenly inspired to visit me in my office. I am busy today and I don't have time for a proper office tryst. And we both know how much you love a bit of office tryst… in fact I think it was in this room where you…" he trails off suggestively.

Her faces turns red at the reminder of their more… adventurous memories.

"I just don't think I have enough time in my schedule to adequately perform that little… feat right now and I don't want to disappoint if we were to re-act some old fond memories."

She holds her hand up to refrain him from continuing on reminiscing on their colluded past.

"I'm not here to _re-act_ anything of the sort. I'm here to tell you that I'm on to you and whatever it is you're plotting."

His face turns hard.

"I don't like to be messed with, Chuck, and I suggest that whatever it is you're doing…you better either stop or learn to be more covert. Because once I figure out what it is exactly you're doing, I'm going to put an end to it. And you're not going to like my method."

"I always did love it when your gloves come off," he says smarmily, moving a little too close for comfort.

His open flirtations don't fool her. She mirrors his actions and leans forward. She casually places her hands on either side of him on the table. The gesture is effective in pressing him against the table's edge and cornering him, just the way she wanted. Her eyes dropped to that half-lidded gaze in a way that can only mean one thing.

She means business.

Trailing her fingers along his leg and drawing languid circles on his chest, she eventually finds her fingers entangled in his hair. He hasn't taken his eyes off her face for a second and can already feel the blood rushing to his nether regions.

She moves as if to kiss him, only to turn to the side at the last moment. Her breath hotly whispering in his ear.

"Consider this a warning," she rasps and then proceeds to yank painfully on a fistful of his hair.

He'd forgotten that she liked to play rough.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Bass," she says as she sashays towards the door.

"For you… anytime," he calls out in between winces.

Familiar words bring a smile to her face as she closes the door behind her.

As soon as she makes outside of the building she reaches into her pocket and withdraws the cellphone of one Chuck Bass. It's about time she got all the puzzle pieces together in one place.

xoxo

Chuck's phone proves useful if not a bit abstract. Plans are made and threats are dealt out.

As Blair waits impatiently in Central Park for her "guest" to arrive, she recalls some of their more colorful past as well as their brief interlude earlier that morning, successfully making her feel a little too flushed in the cold New York weather.

As the clock hits two, her blonde guest inevitably shows up and Blair feels a smirk tug at the corners of her mouth.

"Took you long enough to get here."

If Blair was the sympathetic sort she would feel something for the blonde who was obviously was not too happy to have been discovered.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say to me?"

Her companion continued to fidget nervously, a sheepish expression accompanying the gesture.

"I was just following orders," the other party bites out.

"Don't give me that half-assed excuse, little Van der Woodsen."

Eric cringes and struggles to come up with something better to say in order to appease a very irked Blair Waldorf.

"Look. Chuck's my brother. You and I are friends, but you know what they say about blood being thicker than water."

"You aren't blood related!"

"Technicalities!"

Already Chuck Bass has managed to corrupt the impressionable mind of a once innocent youth.

"Eric. I'm only going to let you have one chance and one chance only. Tell me everything that you know about what Chuck's been up to and all will be forgiven."

She delivers threats with an angelic smile. Despite the extensive tutelage of one Chuck Bass, Eric Van der Woodsen is still too green to go toe-to-toe with the reigning Queen Bitch of the UES. He collapses under pressure like a badly made soufflé.

xoxo

After finally weaseling out some useful information from the younger Van der Woodsen, Blair begins to piece things together and realizes she can get more out of this than she initially expected if she plays her cards right. All she needs is arrange a meeting with the right person and Blair's been awfully good at arranging meetings that suit her purposes.

She leaves a note on Chuck's waitress's doorstep (address conveniently provided by Eric) that demands such a meeting. She waits in a coffee shop for her intrepid stalker to appear and is not disappointed. The blonde arrives on time and seats herself in a huff in the booth across from Blair's.

"Nice choice of location," the blonde snarks.

"I thought you'd appreciate the familiar setting. Does it feel strange to be sitting down instead of pouring the coffee?" Blair says with an innocent smile.

"Where's my phone? Hand it over."

"You mean this?"

Blair plays with the contraption in her hand. She gestures as if she was to hand it over but closes her palm and pulls back at the last second.

"_Not_ before you answer some questions. Eric was vague about the details."

Blair's bleached counterpart crosses her arms defiantly.

"A girl with so many secrets… makes one wonder, who are you exactly?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"Definitely not a mere waitress, that's for sure."

"Yeah, I'm a _cater_-waiter. And people say blondes are dumb."

"Your snide little comments don't fool me. Drop the act already."

"Why don't you drop yours? You obviously think you already figured everything out, so come off of it."

Blair smiles back patiently.

"So… Besides moonlighting as Chuck Bass's personal spy, your cell phone also happens to get spammed with gossip leaks every five seconds. Suspicious much?"

"You should see my email inbox. I have major flooding issues."

"Your poor attempts at deflection aren't going to work. I know who you are."

"Well good for you!"

The other girl's tone is sarcastic, but Blair could tell she's overcompensating for her nervousness. She gets it because she's feeling the same despite her bravado.

"I'm surprised no one else found you out seeing as how clumsy you seem to be. You forgot your cellphone on a table at an event? Kittens? _Really_? You're seriously destroying my mental image of Gossip Girl as a gloriously deviant mastermind. I thought you were suppose to be clever or something."

"Well at least you live up to your name of being a bitch."

"Takes one to know one."

"Oooh. I got burned!"

"Enough of this useless talk. I know your secret and therefore I have power over you," she states simply.

"Trying to blackmail me? I have enough dirt on you that I could erect a new island in the Pacific!"

"No, not blackmail. I have a proposition for you."

Blair steels her voice over, making sure that not a quiver is so much as inflected her tone. This girl, maddening as it may be, was the key to solving all of her little problems.

"It's intriguing I'm sure," the blonde mocks.

"I'm starting a magazine. Well, actually I'm starting a publishing company, but I need something to publish."

"Yay for you!"

"And I need a writer..."

The blonde quirks an eyebrow.

"How would you feel about upgrading from self-publishing and get your work actually printed?"

"Gossip Girl has millions hits. I don't need to get printed."

"That might be good for a blogger, but I'm sure that your little website doesn't come with a hefty paycheck or the title of Editor-in-Chief."

"I'll have you know I get paid quite a pretty sum of money being a PI. All those neurotic women eager for some background check on their new boyfriends and what not. Not to mention a certain Bass-illionaire is on my client list."

"Then what the hell are you doing bussing tables and catering snobby parties for?"

"Maybe I just want to keep it real?"

"Please, spare me the down-to-earth crap. You love the scandal of the idle rich. You wouldn't be Gossip Girl otherwise. Problem is… to get those stories of yours you depend on people to send them to you and doing menial labor at snobby social functions to confirm. You have a sparkling reputation of credibility to uphold after all. And with the long delays in between your posts lately I'm thinking it's a little hard to snoop when you're juggling plates of food."

"How is this convincing me to be on your side again?"

"Let me finish. Sure, you have your PI business, but we both know there are only so many desperate housewives trying to bust their cheating husbands at any given time. You're picking up extra shifts at dingy coffee shops because besides Chuck Bass, the PI business hasn't been having that many patrons as of late and that has been severely impacting your little blog. Let's not even forget that you need a day job to support this guilty pleasure hobby of yours."

"Fine. So I'm a bit strapped for cash," the girl drawls with an eye roll. "So what if I'm interested? What's the catch?"

"There are only two conditions…well, more like one but with parts A and B. I want exclusivity. This means, A) you write for me and only me."

"So you want me to shut down the Gossip Girl."

"Not at all. You'll just have to set it up under my publication."

"And let me guess, you get final say on what goes up?"

"No. I'm leaving that up to you."

"That sounds awfully trusting. I've been known to spill a few of your secrets."

"If you got something good, then do it. It'll bring more publicity anyways."

"Really? No censors?"

"No censors," Blair repeats.

"What's the part B?"

"I need you to stop working for Chuck and the rest of your PI clients."

"Isn't what I do on my own time my own business? It's also a huge blow to my."

"I told you before. In the long run this job will pay off better. I'm letting you have free reign on what you write, but I can't have you influenced by other parties or lose focus. Those are my conditions. I'm giving you a once in a lifetime chance here. All the resources I have will be at your disposal. You can keep your anonymity, your freedom to write as you wish and a steady salary with full benefits. Not a bad deal if I say so myself."

"This sounds great and all, but how is it exactly that you are going to do all this? Last I heard you publically disowned your family."

"I have a few partners in LA and I cashed out my savings."

"Being Creative Ambassador of Public Relations must have paid a lot. God knows I couldn't be paid enough to endure being under Eleanor Waldorf's thumb," the blonde girl smirks.

"COO," Blair corrects. "And it paid enough to pave the path for the founding of Cornelia Publications."

"Cornelia? I thought you were a Waldorf?"

"I wanted a distinction to be made between myself and Waldorf Designs. People often forget that I'm Blair _Cornelia_ Waldorf. It was my father's mother's name, tracing back to the time of Julius Caesar. The Cornelii was one of the most important families in ancient Rome. Compared to them the Waldorfs are merely superficial commoners playing at nobility."

"Fitting for a new start sans the Waldorf name and fortune."

"So, what do you say?"

Blair extends her hand out. Her arm is steady and her tone remains confident despite the pounding in her chest.

The fair-haired girl opposite her stares her in the eyes. For a moment Blair's afraid she's going to walk away.

"I say, you just got yourself an Editor-in-Chief," the blonde states, clasping Blair's hand with hers in a solid shake to signify their agreement.

Blair lets her heart calm down and lets her mouth curl into a haughty smile.

"I'll have the papers sent to you right away. I would also like you to meet with one of my partners. I'll call you later to schedule the meeting."

"I can't wait."

As the petite flaxen haired girl starts to walk away, Blair calls out after her.

"Wait! I don't even know your name. I have to write _something_ on those paychecks don't I? Gossip Girl won't do."

The blonde stops in her tracks and consider the brunette for a few moments.

"… It's Veronica. You can call me Veronica."

"What? Too cool for last names?"

"You of all people shouldn't care about last names. I'll tell you what, if this whole publishing business succeeds, I'll tell you my last name."

Veronica gives her a last smirk and continues walking off to wherever women of mystery venture off to at the end of the old black and white films Blair always liked.

---

**A/N**: So the big PI/Gossip Girl revelation is here. I was inspired to make Gossip Girl Veronica when Kristen Bell mentioned in an interview that she'd just love to just show up as an extra as like a waitress or something and stare long into the camera. That and Chuck's penchant for hiring PIs… you add one and one together and what do you have? Veronica Mars is Gossip Girl. I know a lot of you guys had already guessed it with my little hints throughout the earlier chapters, but I hope it still came as a satisfying reveal. One more chapter to go guys!


	12. Chapter 12 & Epilogue

**Title:** So Damn Beautiful  
**Author:** fading_tales  
**Pairing:** Chuck/Blair/Carter  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gossip Girl or any characters, they belong to the CW and Cecily von Ziegesar.  
**Rating:** PG-13 ~ T  
**Summary:** Because Chuck and Blair are nothing if not dramatic. Because I Love You's don't equal to a Happily Ever After. Because she's so damn beautiful. Because he wants it all. Future fic.

**Prologue & Chapter One****  
****Chapter Two****  
****Chapter Three**  
**Chapter Four****  
****Chapter Five****  
****Chapter Six****  
****Chapter Seven**  
**Chapter Eight****  
****Chapter Nine****  
****Chapter Ten****  
****Chapter Eleven**

**Chapter Twelve**

His longtime trusted PI shows up in his suite unexpectedly when he comes home from work. That should have been the first tip off that the evening would promise more unexpected surprises.

"Hello, Bass," the girl greets from her usual seat in the corner.

"We didn't schedule a meeting."

"I know. I'm here to give you my two week's notice."

"If this is about the amount wired to your account-"

"It's not that. Although I expect the full amount that we agreed upon to be delivered promptly-"

"It was just a bank error. I already had Arlene fixed it."

"Well, good! But nonetheless… I quit."

"You're joking."

"Sorry. I had a run in with Blair the other day. Can you guess where my missing cellphone was?"

"If you're this sloppy maybe I should fire you instead."

"Hey! It was a bad night, okay? Catering is a lot more stressful that pouring coffee! And besides… we both know Blair has a bit of a penchant for stealing," she states, tossing Chuck his own missing BlackBerry.

"So what? Blair blackmailed you to stop providing me with your services? Threaten to oust your little gossip mongering secret?"

"You'd think that wouldn't you? Since that pretty much sums up how I wound up under _your_ employment."

"Don't mention the very, _very_ generous monetary compensations."

"Nevertheless, Blair has presented me with a better job offer."

"A job?"

"Yes. She's totally taken the little nudge you gave her with the E-reader technology and running with it. You're looking at a newly appointed Editor-in-Chief for Cornelia Publications."

He's taken aback by the revelation. He had sent Eric to introduce Blair with a promising investment opportunity, a push in the right direction, but he never imagined she'd go so far so fast.

"Since you and I have been working together for so long, before I leave I'll give you one last report. I've left it for you on your desk."

Veronica pushes herself off of the couch and saunters to the door.

"I have to warn you though. Great as Blair's new business venture is, I'm not sure you're going to be too happy with the specs detailed in the report. Open with caution," she states before she closes the door behind her.

Her ominous warning doesn't deter him from seeking answers. Chuck finds the file on his desk as he was promised. He opens it up and peruses the contents. Soon he understands why he wouldn't be too jubilant over Blair's new enterprise.

Cornelia Publications main office and basis for operations is in LA. Blair's going to relocate to the West coast to start her new company. At least for the first couple of years.

Logically, Chuck admits it makes some sense since that is where Blair's production team is originally based at. Most of her fellow investors and partners would be there. It would be cheaper for her to move rather than uproot her entire team.

Logic had nothing to do with the despair ripping up the insides of his heart and making him hollow.

'_She's leaving… __**again**__,' _he thinks.

He slumps into his overstuffed office chair, hand still clutching onto the offending file that's responsible for his current misery.

The next day he goes to the bank to make some arrangements. Certain things can't be put off any longer.

xoxo

Eleanor calls her on the day they were supposed to leave for France. In spite of Blair's reservations and better judgment, she answers the call.

"…"

"…"

The silence grows long and Blair might have thought that she had only imagined picking up the phone instead of actually doing it had it not been the sounds of the airport in the background.

"Blair…"

"Yes, mother?"

"….So I heard that cad Zac Posen offered you a job."

"Among others…"

"Well, I know by now that nothing I say will convince you to rush to the airport to board the plane back to France with me, but I hope that I had somehow managed to raise you right enough to reject any proposals that pompous jackass Posen has decided to offer."

Blair smiles a reluctant smile.

"I _have_ rejected Zac's offer," she affirms. "Not that it's any of your business."

Eleanor smiles her own small sad smile across the telephone line where Blair cannot see it.

"… well… I'm glad to hear it, nevertheless."

"Why did you call me, mother? I believe we've already said all that there was to be said to each other."

"I just… I…"

Eleanor Waldorf sounded so impossibly vulnerable that Blair blames it on bad reception and a case of temporary hearing impairment.

"I'm sure you hate me and you don't understand why I did what I did… but…" Eleanor pauses as if to take a deep breath, a quiver sneaking its way into her voice. "I… I just wanted to protect you. You know after your father left, work was all I had that kept me sane. Then I met Cyrus…" again another pause. "… and you know… I… I thought I was finally happy for once you know? And now he's gone too… and there's… there's just nobody left in this world-"

Eleanor's voice breaks, and though Blair can't see the tears running down her mom's face, she feels them.

"There was _me_. You had me."

Eleanor lets out a sad laugh. "Yeah… I did. But I guess I muddled that up, too."

They're once again plunged into silence. In the background Blair hears the announcement for her mother's plane.

"That's my flight. I… I…" Eleanor struggles to find the words to say. "Good luck with your new job, Blair."

Emotions race against one another. It's true that her mother had royally screwed her over. It's true that for most of her life her mother was a negligent, workaholic bitch. It's also true that Blair Waldorf loves Eleanor Waldorf because that's just what daughters do even if their moms are complete wrecks. At the very last moment before her mother could hang up that phone and sever their connection, Blair makes her decision.

"Mom! Wait!"

The sounds of the airport continue to play in the background so Blair knows she still has her mother on the line.

"…I… Christmas… is coming up soon and I was planning on going to see daddy… maybe… maybe we can meet up? Get… coffee or something…"

It's not that she's forgiven Eleanor for everything, but it's also a gesture of cease fire.

"…"

There's no answer and Blair starts think maybe her mother wasn't really on the other line after all and had just forgotten to properly hang up.

"… I'd love that, Blair. I'll see you in December."

"Good-bye, mom."

This is the part where they both hang up, go back to their separate lives and try and coexist amiably. Eleanor doesn't hang up.

"Blair? Blair… I… I love you. In case I get into a horrible plane accident or something equally tragic… I just… wanted to tell you that I… love you. "

With that Eleanor successfully hangs up the phone.

For a while Blair keeps the receiver to ear listening to the beeps that indicates the phone has been disconnected. A small smile tugs on her lips.

xoxo

Blair wakes up weary from the amount of work she's been doing to get everything squared away for Cornelia Publications to be launched. Loose ends are starting to get tied up in regards to her new business plan. She has one last meeting with Cindy (or Mac as Veronica has gotten to calling her) before she and Veronica headed to California to start things over there. She makes it out of her building about a good fifteen feet when the sight of a dark, handsome, not-so-much stranger stops her in her tracks.

She hasn't seen him in days and he's a sight for sore eyes in a pristine custom Italian suit, even if his face is sporting yet another bruise. From the looks of it it's healing fast and she almost wishes it would go about hurting for a little while longer. He has to pay at least a little for all the shenanigans he's been up to right?

"Hi."

She says it casually as if her pulse hadn't quickened at the sight of him, thoughts of both kissing him and kicking him in the shins running around in her head.

Vengeful thoughts disappear like fog in the sunshine when he starts moving towards her.

"Hi," he replies with a cautious smile.

Awkward silence between them acts as foils to the sounds of the busy New York street.

"What? No comments about the weather this time?" she quips.

His cautious smile turns into a real one.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he says, the joke sounding awkward to his own ears, mostly because he was on his way to find her.

"The world is indeed getting smaller," she says, returning a smile of her own. "I'm surprised we hadn't run into each other earlier. What with you having me followed and all. Were you too lazy to chase after me on your own you had to hire someone to do the heavy lifting for you?"

"It was more about efficiency. I _do_ have a company to run after all. Why? Did you miss my presence?"

"Of course not!" she replies hastily.

"'The lady doth protest too much'," he teases.

"The _lady_ is tired of mind games. Why would I miss you? We have nothing left to talk about."

"I've never thought you to not have an extra witty repartee to add. Especially when it comes to me," he says with a smile that belies his clenching heart.

"What's there left to say? I've said my peace, you've said yours. We can chalk up our time together as having some good memories and leave it at that."

She's focusing on trying to match her mouth with her eyes.

"Is that what you really want?" he asks, his earlier easiness replaced by hardness she can't face. How quickly the mood turns.

'_No, I don't, but what else is there to do?'_ she fervently thinks.

They stand there, immobile. Neither of them taking that step forward to bridge the mere two feet of space between them. The step that holds all the potential to somehow reverse the seemingly irreversible past actions that have taken place. It's that step she so very badly wants to take, but won't.

Carter was right. They wouldn't work. They're the oil and fire that fuels an inferno that will eventually burn them both out. They will continue to hurt, self sabotage and self destruct.

Chuck knows this. They are both well aware of the harsh facts. Both jaded enough to know that love can't conquer all.

At least that's what she thinks.

"Is that what you really want?" he repeats.

He takes the step forward.

Two feet become mere inches. It's funny how such a small distance can make all the difference. If she just slightly leaned forward she would be able to meet her lips with his.

"Because _I_ don't want that," he replies to his own question.

She thought she was done being surprised by him, but she was wrong. Chuck Bass remains a creature full of surprises.

"I don't want to chalk up what we had to some mere memory of youth. I don't want you and me to be done."

He draws her hand from where they were clenched tightly at her side into his own. She doesn't resist. She just keeps on staring straight at him.

"Don't lie to me and tell me that you never regretted walking away."

He takes a moment to reach out with one hand to cup her face.

"Because I've regretted, every single day, for _letting_ you walk away."

He always knew the right words to say to make her weak at the knees, liquefy her icy reserve.

This time, the proposal is made through the most ordinary of gestures. There's no fancy restaurants, no getting on one knee, no ring. It's no grand romantic gesture. It's standing in the middle of a busy street in front of her building and reaching for the contents of his pocket and placing it in her hand. To strangers it would seem like he was handing her an insignificant little trinket instead of his entire heart (for the second time). He hopes she has learned to treat it better.

"What's this?"

"It's the key to the safety deposit box."

He doesn't clarify, but she knows exactly what he's talking about.

She studies the piece of metal in the palm of her hand. How can such a trivial little thing be capable of bearing the weight of such significance? Emotions war with practicality.

"It's a beautiful sentiment… but, all of our problems are still there. Nothing's been solved."

Sensibility gives way to sense.

"I'm more of a wreck than ever, Chuck. Hell, I'm about to start a publishing company from scratch! A venture that _you_ brought to my attention!"

He is caught off guard with her knowledge about Cindy. Hiring someone to follow her is a typical Bass move, but Chuck is not usually in the habit of giving away good investment opportunities.

"You really should train Eric better. He's a great actor, but terrible under pressure once you have the right leverage. Not that I don't appreciate the business tip off… but I would have preferred something less underhanded," she bites out.

"Would you have accepted my help had I extended it through less devious means?"

"I probably wouldn't."

"Then you'll have to excuse me knowing you so well and taking the alternative route!"

"Or you could be a gentleman for once instead of a scheming deviant and not try to control me like a puppet on a string!"

"I wasn't trying to do anything of the sort! I did it because I cared!"

"Why do you care?!"

"Because I still fucking LOVE YOU!"

"And I LOVE YOU! So there!" She was never one to be one-upped.

One moment they are the epitome of a romantic picture and the next to… well whatever they were.

"Then what the hell is the problem?"

"The problem is that you… you still have a multibillion dollar corporation to run and now I just don't have the time to try and figure out our convoluted relationship. Our timing is wrong. We're both running in different directions."

So many excuses. He maintains her gaze, as if challenging her to withdraw all her bullshit and tell him the real fucking reason why she's so adamant to not let this all work out.

"I'm… I'm not ready to get back into this. I want the second time to be the last time and I don't think that's possible right now."

The truth.

"I'm not demanding anything. The key (and everything it means)… it's yours. However you may feel about it. It was always yours. You can do whatever you want with it. Keep it, throw it away, give it someone else…"

She gives him an amused look. "I don't think it would be wise to go around throwing away or giving out keys to safety deposit boxes, especially ones holding priceless heirloom diamond rings."

"I guess you're just going to have to keep it then, aren't you?" he says with a small smile. "Keep it. Keep it until you are ready."

He's done what he came to do, so this time he's the one to turn around and start walking away without waiting for an answer. He doesn't want to hear any more of her logical protests and arguments.

"You said you weren't going to wait for me anymore," she calls out.

He pauses and turns back to her. He was never as good as she was at dramatic exits.

"What?"

"That's what you said. That one time when I picked up the phone."

She doesn't clarify, but he knows exactly what she's talking about.

They don't need any thing to be spelt out. They don't need any extra explanations. The past heartbreaks and heartaches between them have been immortalized in both of their minds.

"I lied. I'll wait for you. Whether it takes a year, or two, or three or a million. I'm always going to wait for you. However long it takes for you to be ready."

She wonders what happened to the Chuck with ultimatums and threats.

"You lied then, how can I know you're not lying now?"

"You don't. But you owe me at least that much."

"…"

"I hope you get everything that you ever wanted."

He's sincere. He hopes that all of her big dreams come true, even it turns out he's not part of them.

"Good-bye, Blair," he says.

She wipes at watery eyes (god she's so sick of crying and good-byes) and pulls on her best smile.

"Good-bye, Chuck," she replies.

This time he's not begging her to stay. He's done with impatience and he's done with threats and coercions. He's letting her go and prays to god for the second time that whoever said that line about setting love free knew what they was talking about.

**The Epilogue**

The thing about Chuck and Carter is that they are both of the opinion that nobody loves Blair Waldorf the way they love Blair Waldorf. The problem was never about whether it was Chuck or Carter that loved her or if one loved her more than the other. No. This was a love story that starred Blair Waldorf and herself.

Cornelia Publications and the launch of the new cutting edge electronic reader into the rising market is a success. EZines became the new IPods and GG becomes the most subscribed source of haute fashion and scandalous gossip. There are even rumors about a TV show being made, but Blair still needs to talk to the ever mysterious Gossip Girl in question.

Needless to say, Blair Cornelia Waldorf is glamorous and successful. Her picture embellishes the magazine covers (both traditional and not) in honor of the 5th year anniversary of Cornelia Publications and Blair's rise as a major industry leader. Take that Amazon and Barnes&Noble! The digital publishing arena has a new contender and she's a bitch on high heels, kicking ass and taking names.

For once Blair Waldorf doesn't need anyone else to tell her that she's 'so damn beautiful.' She can look in the mirror (or anywhere really, new articles, ads, billboards, you name it) and tell that to herself. She's not broken and she's not lost any longer. She doesn't have any more excuses to not let happiness have a fighting chance.

Vogue wants in on the digital phenomenon, promising an outrageously generous percentage cut. She just needs to fly back to New York to discuss rights. As enticing as the deal may be, that's not the reason she gets on the plane.

New York is still the city of lights that she remembers. As she steps out of the black limo, she wonders how a certain Bass is feeling about her photos gracing the city this time around.

Five years is a long time. It's long enough for the both of them to mature and grow into the adults they always wanted to become. It's long enough for him to learn to balance life and work, long enough for her to find herself and long enough for her to realize that despite the time and space, she still (and probably always will) love the man on the other side of the continent.

With these thoughts she purposefully makes her way towards his door, one hand clenching a ring finally taken out of the dusty safety deposit box it's been held hostage in.

She raises her hand up, poised to knock on the door. This time, there's no more running away.

He answers the door as if he were expecting her. Truth be told, he's been expecting her all of his life. The tip off from one of his former employees and her travel companion didn't hurt either.

"I'm home," she simply states.

"I've been waiting."

They share knowing smiles.

"Well, aren't you going to let me in?" she asks, trying to sound petulant, but not managing to hide her grin.

"First things first…"

xoxo

He reaches out to caress her cheek, smile on his face. She moves to encircle her arm around him, the ring now placed on her finger glints as it catches the light. She doesn't wait for him to lean in before she closes the gap between them. There's no hesitance over making the step forward this time around.

She's holds no illusions of a perfect ending, but now that knowledge isn't as daunting as she had first believed.

She has the rest of her life waiting for her.

**Hello UESiders. Guess whose back in the Big Apple? In honor of Cornelia Publication's 5****th**** Anniversary, I have some very special gossip blast for all of you…**

**Spotted: The one and only Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass, making their way out of City Hall. Is that a ring I see on B's finger? Is UES's resident bad boy billionaire and the Queen B back together at last? I don't know about you guys, but here's **_**my**_** blessing to the happy couple. Fingers cross that it lasts this time. I'm a sucker for happy endings... You know you love me. XCXO Gossip Girl **

FIN.

A/N: So there it is… the ending to my first multi-chapter fic ever! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I really love all of you readers! So please continue to read my work and leave wonderful reviews/comments! 3


End file.
